Seeing Red
by peaches1418
Summary: A series about Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy. As in most fanfics concerning this pairing, they hate each other in school. Eventually they end up married. The trouble being that poor Rosie is having a slightly difficult time remembering the events that occurred inbetween...
1. Chapter 1

"You are a stupid, arrogant, little git!" I scream, leaning closer to his pale face as I did so, ensuring that he's reaping the full benefits of my rage. I turn on my heel and began to storm down the corridor.

He doesn't appreciate it. "I'm stupid and arrogant?" he asks me, outrage clear on his face, "You're a fine one to talk!"

I spin around quickly. "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Hm, let's think about that one, shall we? Who was it that had a go at poor Quentin Finch-Fletchley because he didn't know that mandrake root can cure those who have been petrified?"

"That's because _everyone_ knows that! Even Hugo does, for Merlin sake." I've changed my mind about walking away from him and am now striding towards him instead, "And why did you say '_poor_ Quentin'? You cannot actually be feeling sorry for him?"

"Weasley, you practically attacked him in class!"

I scowl and lift my chin by an inch. "I did not attack him, that trowel just slipped out of my hand, okay? It was obviously an accident."

"Yeah, sure," Scorpius mutters, his words dripping with sarcasm. He's stuffing his hands into his pockets – probably to stop himself from hitting me or something.

A growl escapes my lips before I can stop it. Yes, I actually growled. "You're so bloody… pathetic! Walking around the castle like you own it! Do you not know how frustrating it is to see you sauntering down the corridor with that stupid mate of yours?" I begin to do an exaggerated expression of his walk. Okay, so maybe he doesn't walk exactly like this, but I think I'm getting my point across.

He grabs hold of my arm and yanks me towards him, "And do you know how frustrating it is to be partnered with little miss perfectionist? And William isn't"- now he's snapping his mouth shut. There was no denying his friend lacked in brain cells.

I smirk, happy to have gotten something right even if it had been a pitiable little snipe. I wrench my hand out of his grip. "Well, don't worry about it _Scorpius_, because I am never going to partner with you again! Even if the teacher does threaten us with detention for not doing what he says. I would rather… gouge my own eyes out rather than work- no, make that rather than spend a _single_ second longer in your company!"

I turn on my heel once again and stomp along the stone-walled corridor towards the stairs that will eventually lead me towards the Gryffindor common room. Today had been utterly rubbish from when I had breakfast and split pumpkin juice all down my jumper, to being partnered with Finch-Fletchley and _that_ idiot in Herbology.

It's not the fact that he's in Slytherin. Being sorted into a house now was merely a formality for winning the house cup and sorting out the timetable for students. The rivalries (outside of Quidditch) between the houses had died years ago. No, it was the fact that Malfoy and his bunch of cronies got under my skin, at seemingly every chance they got.

Kerry has told me plenty of times not to let him get on my nerves so much – but that's not possible with the daily jibes and pokes. In fact, Kerry has once or twice suggested that it was as much my fault, as it is Malfoy's. But how stupid is that? I mean, it's blatantly all his fault.

I can hear him now, calling my name. But I'm not going to react; I'm not going to turn around just so we can get involved in yet another slanging match. I should be in Transfiguration now, but I'm not going to go – not in the mood that I'm in. All I want to do is get back to my dormitory and take a long, hot shower to calm myself down. Or maybe scream into my pillow and punch a wall.

My right hand is running along the banister, and as I'm turning around a corner of the staircase I run a hand through my short, red hair. It's short as in; it reaches to my shoulders, just. I would like it longer, but it's just more practical and easier to have it at this length. For instance, where it takes me half an hour to get ready for the school day, it takes Kerry almost twenty minutes to just do her hair. I can't be bothered with all that, and by that I mean make-up and stuff. I'm here to learn, not to impress the opposite sex.

It's Kerry that always gets the attention of the male students anyway, not me – and not that I'm complaining either. Whereas she wears her clothes tight, so they show off her curves perfectly, my jumper is a size too big (not that it's my fault exactly, Dad ordered the wrong size. At least it wasn't as bad as Hugo's, the sleeves of which fall way past the end of his hands). And, Kerry seems to have been born with the ability to naturally be able to walk in heels, which she does every day. Apparently to her, the shoes she does wear aren't even that high, but I could only manage to teeter around the room when I tried them on. It's not like I really care anyway, stupid heels. I'm happy with my own flat shoes thank you very much.

"Weasley!"

I hate the way he says my name. Or rather, the way he says my surname. I mean really, how childish is that, to call me by my last name? Okay fine – sometimes (most of the time), I call him Malfoy but that's just because Scorpius is such a stupid name. Who calls their kid Scorpius anyway? Was it some kind of joke?

He had better not be following me. I glance through the gap between the stairs. He is! I roll my eyes and start climbing faster up the stairs. I'll reach the portrait before he does and just slam it in his face. He won't be able to get in then.

"Rose, do not walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

"That was you talking to me? I would hate to hear it when you were shouting at someone," I yell down the stairs at him.

He's stopped now, and is looking up at me. "What are we going to do about this project? I cannot afford another detention."

"Not my problem," I reply, and then begin to tread up the stairs again.

I hear him sighing. "Rose! Don't be so bloody childish!"

"Me?" I ask, stopping yet again and looking down at him. He's on the floor below me now. His blonde hair is dishevelled and his tie has been pulled loose. He could at least try looking as if he's made the effort to look smart for school.

"Yes, you!"

"If you are so worried about the project then you and Finch-Fletchley can continue without me. I'll probably get a much better grade working by myself anyway!"

"See!" he yells, pointing up at me. I lean over the banister so I can get a better look at him. "This is exactly what I mean about you being arrogant. You think you are so much better than everyone else just because you get 'fantastic grades'. Don't you know how annoying you are?"

"I'm annoying? That's rich coming from you."

But I'm not going to get muddled up in this argument again. I swear the whole school probably knows what characteristics of his annoy me, and vice versa. He starts up the stairs again, and so do I, but quicker this time.

"Just leave me alone!" I scream, "I don't want to look at your face, let alone speak to you ever again. I'm going to get transferred out of the classes we are in together – every single one of them!"

"Oh for Merlin's sake," I hear him muttering. But I don't care.

I don't care if I sound stupid or if I'm over exaggerating. Surely mum and dad will understand, I mean, they went to school with his father. They'll have some idea about what it's like to spend time with a Malfoy. Although, every time I do bring the subject of Scorpius Malfoy up at home, they always say that he isn't as bad as his father – I find that hard to believe. Not that I have ever met Drake, or Draco – whatever his daft name is.

"Miss Weasley?"

Oh shit, it's McGonagall. I look up, and there she is, standing a few steps away from me. How could I not have seen her? Has she been listening to every word me and _him_ have been saying to each other? My only hope is that she hasn't been standing on the staircase long. I mean, it's not like we were shouting _that_ loudly.

Okay, maybe we were.

"Is there a problem?" she asks me, in the mildly sarcastic tone that teachers use when they blatantly know there is a problem.

I push a loose strand of hair that has fallen in front of my face to behind my ear and take a few calming breaths. "No Professor."

Her eyebrows arch slightly, as Scorpius appears, trudging up the stairs behind me. He stops, so he's standing on my left side. He shoots me a glare, which lasts less than a second, before looking up at McGonagall.

"And what about you, Mr. Malfoy, have you got a problem?"

"I've got a pain in the arse," he mutters. I think he's implying I'm the pain in the arse.

She either doesn't hear him, or refuses to take any notice of it. "Well?"

"No. Professor," he adds as an afterthought.

"Then why, may I ask, are you both out of lessons?"

"I don't know," I answer meekly. I hate getting shouted at by the professors. "I just don't feel well. I'm on my way to my dorm."

"If you aren't feeling too well, perhaps you should go to the hospital wing," she suggests, but I know she doesn't believe me.

"No. I mean, I just need a nap or something. It's just a headache. A throbbing, annoying headache," I add, fleeting a glance to Malfoy.

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asks him.

He struggles for an answer. "I was just… I needed to talk to Rose."

"'Talk'? What I heard was not talking. Tell me, what topic constitutes shouting through the corridors at the top of your voices? Well?"

"We both just got a little frustrated about this project we're doing for Herbology," he answers.

I scoff. I can't believe he can be so casual about it. "Not anymore."

"Excuse me, Miss. Weasley?"

"I said, not anymore. I'm not working with him from now on."

I figure, this is as good a time as any to tell her about wanting to change classes. There's no point in pretending nothing is wrong, when later on I was going to go and talk to her anyway. She'll understand.

"Well Miss. Weasley, I'm afraid that it isn't up to you whom you partner with on school projects."

"But I"- I begin. She's not seriously suggesting that I continue working with him? "I want to change classes. I"-

"I don't think so. I'm not altering your lesson schedule, just because of a little argument. Now, I will see the both of you tomorrow afternoon, straight after lessons," she says, and then walks past us and down the stairs.

"Detention?" I ask, walking around Scorpius to get a clear view of her, "But I didn't do anything!"

"I can't have another detention," he says, "My father will kill me."

"Tomorrow afternoon," McGonagall confirms. She doesn't even bother to look at us; she just keeps descending down the stairs.

I scowl at Scorpius, shake my head and jog up the stairs. When I reach the top, he catches up with me, grabs my arm, and walks around me so he's facing me.

"This is all… your… fault!" I shout, ripping my arm away from him and then hitting him to amplify every word.

Scorpius places both of his hands onto my upper arms and holds them close to my body so I can't move them anymore.

"Just calm down," he orders.

"I will not calm down," I say, pushing him away from me.

But I underestimate his strength, and it stands firm against my pitiful shove. I wobble on the top step. My heart skips a beat. I know I'm standing with the staircase I've just come up behind me. Shit. My mind is rushing, yet everything is going so slow, as if we've been put on slow motion.

"Rose," I hear him saying, but it sounds weird, like I'm under water or something.

I feel him grabbing at me. He manages to catch hold of my hand, but it's too late. I already know that I'm falling. His grip isn't yet tight enough to stop me.

And now it's suddenly going so fast.

Everything it spinning.

I can hear shouting, but I don't know who it is. I try to grab hold of something, anything, but I can't.

It's all going too fast.

And then nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello lovelies. Thank you for reading; it means a lot. The idea for writing this story came about when I was supposed to be revising for my exams (would you believe), and so here it is :). Reviews are always appreciated, and I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Peaches xx**

Oh. Ow. My head.

This is what it must feel like to have twenty pixies attacking your head with various sharp objects, all at exactly the same time. Great – I have double Care of Magical Creatures today too, and that detention with McGonagall. Well, this week is turning out just great isn't it?

My whole body is aching, but I'm trying to sit up anyway. It feels like I've done ten rounds with a mountain troll, and a very angry mountain troll at that. My eyelids are so heavy that I can't even be bothered to open them. At least my alarm hasn't gone off though, so I can just lie here for a bit. Although, it doesn't feel right.

I mean, I know I don't feel well, but surely that doesn't affect the way my sheets feel. They don't feel like the same, slightly crumpled sheets that I'm used to. Okay – they definitely are not the same. For one thing, they're pulled tightly and tucked underneath the mattress at the sides. Secondly, they feel crisp, and stiff – like brand new sheets.

And now I come to think of it, the dorm doesn't smell right either. It usually smells of a mixture of Jessie's sweet (yet strong) perfume, owls and old books. But, there is none of that. It smells… clean. Really clean.

I force my eyes to open. At first, the white light is almost dazzling. It's going to take me a while to adjust. I am definitely not in my dorm. Have I been kidnapped or something? Maybe they have sedated me, and are about to do experiments or something? Oh Merlin! Help!

I chance opening my eyes again. Am I in hospital? What the hell happened last night? Okay – think back Rosie, what's the last thing you remember? Right, well I was put into a group with Malfoy and Quentin… then I had that big argument… McGonagall gave us detention… Of course!

I fell! I fell down the stairs. I don't know why I am so happy to learn this fact. Probably because it means I am not being used for experiments after all, I'm simply in hospital because I fell down some stairs. Wow, it must have been a pretty bad fall for me to forget it. How long I have been here? Hang on, what if I have broken something?

No, I can't have. I mean, I need my arms to write down notes and I need my legs to get to classes. I can't afford to fall behind in any of my classes. Breath Rosie, it'll be fine. Worse comes to worse, and I have broken an arm/leg then I'll just have to get Jessie to help me. Surely she won't mind, I mean, she's my friend. I would do the same for her. And come on, how long does it take to heal a broken bone? A day or two?

I push myself further up, so I can look around the ward properly. Then I check my arms. Phew, cuts and bruises, but that's it – nothing major. I can still write. I am thirsty though, really thirsty, like I haven't drank in days.

"Ah, Rosie. You're awake."

I look up, pushing my hair away from my face. Jeez, I didn't realise it had gotten so long. I smile meekly at the nurse approaching my bed. She looks young and friendly. And I think she must be new, because I have never seen her in the hospital wing before. Mind you, I'm not a regular visitor.

"Yeah," I say. I could have gone with something sarcastic like, 'Oh, you noticed did you? I guess my open eyes gave it away', but I figure she's been looking after me all night so I'll keep the sarcasm to a minimum.

"How are you feeling? Pretty sore I expect? It was a nasty fall you took."

I nod; "I've felt better. Have you got something you can give me for the pain? I've got a cracking headache."

"Sure," she says with a smile, as she picks up the folder from the bottom of my bed and flips it open. "Can I get you anything else?"

"A glass of water?"

"I'll just get some for you now."

She walks towards the little table beside my bed, and pours some water into a glass from the jug. Then, thoughtfully, she puts in a straw and holds the glass close to my mouth. I use the straw, but it stills hurts my lip. I must have a major cut on them.

I nod when I've had my fill and she puts the glass down onto the table. "I'll let the Matron come and see you before I give you anything for the pain."

She is beginning to walk away. "Um, nurse?" I say. I feel bad calling her that but I don't know what else to call her since she hasn't given me her name.

"Yes Rosie?"

"Have you told my mum and dad about my accident? And Hugo?"

She nods; "They know about it. Your mum was pretty shook-up."

That was what I was afraid of. "Could you please contact them to say I'm okay? I don't want them worrying when they don't need to."

"Sure. But I don't think your mum will stop worrying until she sees for herself that you're okay."

I smile, and then wince at the stinging sensation, "Good point."

"The Matron will come and see you when she can."

"No hurry," I say, because there isn't. I'm not panicking anymore about broken bones. I mean, what's one day of lessons?

Okay, so it's a lot but it shouldn't take me long to catch up.

"Ah, and you have a visitor," the nurse says, before she turns and heads towards the office.

It's probably Hugo. Come to see how bad I look - such a caring brother. If he laughs at me, because of my appearance (I know the left side of my face is swollen because I can feel it), I can't even get back at him, because I'm literally being held in bed by the covers. They are actually pulled so tight it's becoming uncomfortable. I'll ask the nurse – I forgot to enquire her name – to loosen them for me, if I can't do it myself.

I turn my head on my pillow, to look for Hugo. But it's not him that's approaching my bed. I don't actually know who it is… hang on, do I know him? He looks a bit like- but no. It can't be. This man is tall, and lean with broad shoulders. And, jeez does he know how to dress well. He's tanned slightly, like he has recently got back off a holiday. His blonde hair is tousled, like he has been running his hand through it a lot. It looks it though. He looks good – better than good. He looks a bit Scorpius. Does he have an older brother?

"Hey Honey, so you've finally decided to wake up then?"

Is he talking to me? I mean, he has walked right up to my bed and he is looking directly at me, but still... is he talking to me?

I decide not to reply.

He's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and taking hold of my hand, and running his other hand through my hair (seriously – when did it get that long?)

"You had me so bloody worried. How are you feeling?"

It is obvious that this possible older brother of Scorpius suffers from… something. Maybe he came into Hogwarts to visit Malfoy and now he's got confused and thinks we knew each other. Yes, that must be it. Alright, all I have to do its humour him, play along with it, until the nurse comes along and realises he isn't a student and whisks him away.

"I'm feeling little groggy. Who are you?"

Great going on the 'humour him' plan there Rosie. I didn't mean to blurt out the question. It just, sort of, happened. He's looking at me strangely, and now a smirk is playing on his lips. Jeez, that's really sexy. He's mastered the 'Malfoy smirk' that I have heard about; the one that Scorpius can't quite manage.

"Scorp," he replies slowly, as if he thinks it's some sort of joke. "Are you sure you're okay Rosie?"

Wait – WHAT?

So either, Scorpius has grown up during the night or, this man is lying. Whatever the reason, I still want to know why he is holding my hand. I pull it out of his grip quickly.

"No. I know you're not Scorpius. Scorpius is smaller than you, and not as, you know, bulky. He's younger too. He's in the same year as me. I should know - I have to spend lessons with him."

There. I bet when this lunatic walked in and decided to feed lies to some poor, unsuspecting girl, he didn't think he would start on someone who actually knew who he was going to pretend to be. Well, hah! I wrecked his plan good and -

"Rosie, you are joking, right?"

I cannot believe this man! Does he not know when to stop? "What? No. I know your are not Scorpius because he hates me. Definitely hates me…" I trail off because of the way he is looking at me – like I'm not quite sane.

I'm the sane one. It's him that's lying! I am the sane one. I know I am.

"Oh, I get what's going on here!" I say suddenly, rolling my eyes. "It's Hugo, isn't it? He put you up to this. So, how much did he pay you? I can't believe he thinks I would actually fall for something as stupid as this."

He, this 'Scorp', is looking at me with his lips slightly parted, and has an expression on his face like a first year whom I have just explained seventh-year Ancient Runes to, in full detail.

"Rose,"-

"I'm not allowed to speak to strangers. So please, if you would just, you know, go away." I add in a little 'shooing' motion with my hands just in case he didn't understand what I said.

Well, technically I am allowed to speak to strangers since I am in sixth year and can be trusted by my parents but I thought I would just throw it in there anyway. It seems to have worked though! He's walking away now. That's right Mr. Weirdo, straight towards the-

No! Not that way. He's going to the nurse's office. He's supposed to be leaving the hospital wing, that's what I meant when I said 'go away'. Is he a complete and utter fool? He's saying something to them, and now pointing at me (how rude).

Oh good. Now they're coming over, at least I get to tell my side of the story. The Matron, at least I think it's the Matron he's bringing over, doesn't look too happy. Not that she looks sad or angry, she just looks… worried. Why would she be worried?

"Hello Rosie," she says in a pleasant manner.

"Hi," I say, throwing Blondie a curious glance. He's standing just behind the large Matron, looking even more worried.

And so he should be!

"Now, you have suffered a head trauma, from falling off your broom so,"-

I'm laughing, I can't help it. "Me on a broom - are you serious? I hate the bloody things. I just about managed to pass the flying class. I think you have me confused with someone else. I fell down the stairs; you know the ones leading up to the Gryffindor tower? I was having an argument with the real" – I give him glare this time – "Scorpius Malfoy and I tripped."

But instead of looking apologetic for her mistake, the Matron is looking even more concerned. She's hidden it quickly though and is now smiling, but even a child would be able to tell that it's forced. Is it forced for my sake?

"Rosie, because you came in with a head trauma, I'm going to ask you a few questions. They are standard questions we ask."

"Okay," I agree, saying the word slowly and sitting up more so my back is straight.

"Is falling down the stairs the last thing you remember?"

"Yes. I just told you that. It was the stairs leading to the Gryffindor common room."

"So, you think you're still in Hogwarts then?"

"What do you mean 'think'? I know I'm still in Hogwarts. My uniform is just"- I pause to look for the black jumper, red tie and grey skirt but they aren't here. "They're probably just in my dorm or something."

"What year are you in Rosie?"

"Sixth. Look, this should all be in my file," I say. I'm starting to get quite annoyed now. I'm definitely going to go and report this to McGonagall.

The matron and Blondie both cast a glance to each other. I stare at them for a few moments, feeling slightly awkward. My insides are starting to bubble with nerves, and I can feel my face getting hot. I just know it's turning a bright red colour but for once in my life I don't care.

"Can someone please just tell me what's going on?" I demand. I yank the covers free; I feel too constricted, like I can't breathe.

"Rosie," he begins, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed.

"Don't call me that! You don't me. Only my friends call me that." Then I remember them; "Where's Kerry and Jessie? I want to see them, I want"-

"Perhaps," the Matron says quietly, "it would be better if this came from me? She seems a little, nervous, in your presence, Mr. Malfoy."

"No," he says bluntly. "I want to be the one to tell her. I'm her bloody"- he stops abruptly and runs a hand through his hair. The lights shine onto something silver, and when he pulls his hand away I see it's a wedding band.

Slowly, I look down at my own hand. It's shaking. It's covered in cuts and grazes. And there's an engagement ring and a wedding ring on my third finger.

My breath catches in my throat and I feel tears starting to sting my eyes. I blink a few times and a tear rolls down my cheek, but I don't bother to wipe it away. Instead, I look up at the man. I watch as his face washes with pain and angst, as if seeing me cry actually causes him physical pain.

"What's going on?" I manage to ask, even though my voice is trembling.

He rubs his right shoulder, like he's trying to massage out a deep muscular pain. Then he turns to me. His eyes, a dull grey, look at me intently.

"Rose, yesterday you and me were messing around on my broom. I was stupid, I went too fast and I," he pauses and looks slightly embarrassed, "I flew into a tree. I managed to stay on the broom but you fell off. I honestly never meant to hurt you, I swear." He grabs hold of my hand. This time, I don't pull away; I'm too shocked by what he's saying.

"When we were in our sixth year," he continues, "you had an accident and you fell down the stairs. Rose, that was several years ago. You're 22 now. We both are".

"I think was has happened is when you had your broom accident, something happened in your brain and it's taken you back to the last time when you hit your head," the Matron explains, "and you seem to have lost the memories in between".

I shake my head. I can't take in what they're saying. It can't be true. But… what if it is? I've missed out on years of my life. Yesterday I was halfway through my sixth year of Hogwarts. I was worrying about studying for exams, and getting homework in on time. I was planning to go into Hogsmeade with Kerry and Jessie at the weekend. I hated Malfoy.

I look at him now. I can see the old Scorpius Malfoy in him. He just looks… older. I look down and see his hand is still holding mine; his thumb rubbing the wedding ring gently – my wedding ring.

"Okay," I say after a while. "So, if all of that is true then what happened between us? I hated you. We hated each other. For Merlin's sake, the last thing I remember is us two arguing about having to be partners on a Herbology project".

Despite the situation, the smirk plays on Scorpius' lips once again, "ah yes. That argument was legendary. The whole school was talking about it for the rest of the year". Then he smiles at me; it's a shock, seeing Scorpius Malfoy actually smiling like he means it. "Rosie, we erm, kind of got over hating each other, and made up."

"Made up?" I ask, "In what way did we make up?"

"Well, we got married".


	3. Chapter 3

Oh. Ow. My head.

This is what it must feel like to have twenty pixies attacking your head with various sharp objects, all at exactly the same time. Great – I have double Care of Magical Creatures today too, and that detention with McGonagall. Well, this week is turning out just great isn't it?

My whole body is aching, but I'm trying to sit up anyway. It feels like I've done ten rounds with a mountain troll, and a very angry mountain troll at that. My eyelids are so heavy that I can't even be bothered to open them. At least my alarm hasn't gone off though, so I can just lie here for a bit. Although, it doesn't feel right.

I mean, I know I don't feel well, but surely that doesn't affect the way my sheets feel. They don't feel like the same, slightly crumpled sheets that I'm used to. Okay – they definitely are not the same. For one thing, they're pulled tightly and tucked underneath the mattress at the sides. Secondly, they feel crisp, and stiff – like brand new sheets.

And now I come to think of it, the dorm doesn't smell right either. It usually smells of a mixture of Jessie's sweet (yet strong) perfume, owls and old books. But, there is none of that. It smells… clean. Really clean.

I force my eyes to open. At first, the white light is almost dazzling. It's going to take me a while to adjust. I am definitely not in my dorm. Have I been kidnapped or something? Maybe they have sedated me, and are about to do experiments or something? Oh Merlin! Help!

I chance opening my eyes again. Am I in hospital? What the hell happened last night? Okay – think back Rosie, what's the last thing you remember? Right, well I was put into a group with Malfoy and Quentin… then I had that big argument… McGonagall gave us detention… Of course!

I fell! I fell down the stairs. I don't know why I am so happy to learn this fact. Probably because it means I am not being used for experiments after all, I'm simply in hospital because I fell down some stairs. Wow, it must have been a pretty bad fall for me to forget it. How long I have been here? Hang on, what if I have broken something?

No, I can't have. I mean, I need my arms to write down notes and I need my legs to get to classes. I can't afford to fall behind in any of my classes. Breath Rosie, it'll be fine. Worse comes to worse, and I have broken an arm/leg then I'll just have to get Jessie to help me. Surely she won't mind, I mean, she's my friend. I would do the same for her. And come on, how long does it take to heal a broken bone? A day or two?

I push myself further up, so I can look around the ward properly. James is sat on the chair to the left of me, with his feet up and resting on the edge of my bed, reading The Daily Prophet. Al, who's dressed in his Quidditch robes, is the first to notice I'm awake.

"Rosie," he says, his forehead creases with concern, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. My head's sore though" I tell him.

Hugo quickly begins to scribble on a bit of parchment, "mum told me to write to her the instant you woke up," he explains, splattering ink all over himself in the process.

I shake my head at him. It's no wonder he's always getting into trouble for looking scruffy. "You could look a bit happier James," I comment, as I tug my arms out from underneath the tight bed sheets.

"I had a bet on with Lorcan that you'd wake up tomorrow" he tells me, sighing as he does so as if I have woken up earlier than he predicted to purposely make him lose a galleon.

"Oh well I'll just knock myself out again, should I?"

"I would if I were you. McGonagall's not too happy with you and Malfoy at the moment."

I let out a groan and sink back down onto the bed. Although hopefully McGonagall will cancel the detention because she feels so sorry for me and Malfoy will be made to do a double detention because obviously it was his fault I fell. Trying to convince myself this is pointless as deep down I know that even if I had broken every bone in my body, McGonagall would be waiting until I was fully recovered so I could properly appreciate the detention.

"Speaking of _Malfoy_," utters Hugo, "guess who came to visit you a few hours ago."

"You're going to have to give me a minute while I try and work out just who it could be," I reply, sarcastically.

"Don't worry; I had a word with the blond git," says James.

"Why did he come here anyway? Because if it was to say sorry, then I really"- I began.

"Well we're not going to know because James practically shoved him straight out of the doors as soon as he'd stepped inside" reveals Albus, whilst giving James a disappointed look.

"Have you not seen what he did to Rosie?" bursts James.

"Of course, but Dad's always saying to not judge people based on their families", replies Albus, "and anyway, we're not sure what really happened, are we?"

My head starts to pound even more as they begin to argue with each other. Just as James is suggesting that Albus should "be a good cousin and shove Malfoy off his broom during the next Quidditch match, to see how he likes it", Madame Pomfrey came scuttling over to my bed and began to usher them all out.

Madame Pomfrey then comes back over to my bed, and after giving me a quick once over and a spoonful of Pepperup Potion, allows me to leave. I check the time and realise that I'll be able to make it to the second lesson Care of Magical Creatures.

I'm going down the stairs as quickly and as carefully as I can, making sure I have a firm grip of the handrail. Pomfrey told me that after my lessons today I've got to report to her office to find out what my punishment is going to be, and then after that I'm going to have to go to Transfiguration to find out what I missed in yesterday's lesson when I was having my little argument with Malfoy, and then to Potions and Arithmancy to see what I missed in this morning's lesson. Oh Merlin I hope it wasn't too much. I've already got a 12 inch essay to write using the new number charts we made last week.

"Rose,"

Having just reached the ground floor, I turn to my left to see Quentin coming towards me; a look of concern on his face.

"I heard about your accident," he begins.

"Oh yeah, but I'm alright now, as you can see," I reply.

"Yeah," he says, awkwardly, "the thing is, I was kind of hoping that we would be able to get started on that project this morning".

I'm slightly taken aback. Here I was thinking he was coming over to see how I was. "Sorry I was in a coma…" I reply.

He shrugs it off, "don't worry about it. I just wanted to let you know that Scorpius and I have already started it off. Actually," he says, not seeming to notice the look of frustration creeping onto my face, "he said something ludicrous about you not wanting to be in a group with us anymore. I told him he must have got the wrong end of the stick, because it would be utterly stupid if you didn't want to be in a group. I doubt you'd be able to do all of this work by yourself, and…"

I'm about to interrupt Quentin's tirade and reveal to him that Malfoy was, on just this one occasion, actually correct when I see him walking down the corridor towards us. I notice he's got a smirk on his face, like he knows exactly what's happening.

Well. I can't have him getting all big headed and thinking he's right about everything, can I?

I start laughing loudly and, I hope, realistically. I place my hand on Quentin's shoulder as if whatever he's said is so hilarious that I can't even stand up without support.

"I, er, I'm not really…" he starts, looking at me in confusion. He looks a bit freaked out to be honest.

I casually tilt my gaze towards Malfoy and try to hide my snugness when I see that he, too, is confused.

"Quentin, you're so funny!" I exclaim.

"I really didn't say anything _that_ funny," mutters Quentin, unsure of what is happening, "or funny at all for that matter. I simply just wanted to talk to you about"-

I notice Malfoy narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Maybe I'm taking this a little bit too far. Yesterday I was making is perfectly obvious that I really couldn't stand Quentin, and now here I am making it look as if I think he should have his own stand-up comedy show.

"So," I interrupt him, "should we meet up in the library then? Tonight?" I suggest.

He looks at me for a moment, as if he expects me to start manically laughing. Or perhaps crying this time.

"Sure," he agrees slowly. He's probably wondering if it's possible for him to change groups now.

"Would it be alright if you went and told Scorpius? I need to get to class. Thanks Quen!" I say, overly cheerful and begin to walk hastily towards to doors that lead outside.

"My name's Quentin, not Quen…" he shouts after me, trailing off at he notices I'm not really paying attention.

By this point, Scorpius has reached Quentin. He's got his hands on his hips and a questioning look on his face.

"What in the name of Merlin was all that about?" he asks.

"Oh er, just a little joke between me and Rose," he stops to clear him throat at Malfoy arches an eyebrow, "anyway, turns out you were wrong about her not wanting to be in our group. In fact, she suggested we have a meeting in the library tonight. Is that fine for you?" he asks, only pausing for Malfoy to nod his head slightly, "excellent. The sooner we get this out of the way, the sooner you'll be back to practising on the Quidditch pitch, eh?" Quentin says, nudging Scorpius on the arm as if they were best friends.

Scorpius just looks down at his arm, and then back to Quentin, with an expression on his face that was a mix between confusion and frustration.

Quentin gulps. Just because Rose's character changed doesn't mean Scorpius' will suddenly do the same. "Well, I'd better be off".

After watching Quentin scurry off down the corridor, Scorpius turned to the doors which Rose has just walked through and still trying to work out what the hell had just happened?


	4. Chapter 4

**It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that :). I wasn't too happy with the last chapter, but I just wanted to get something out quickly. Hope you enjoy this one and it would be lovely if you'd leave a review :). Thanks for reading, Peaches. **

"Now, Mrs. Malfoy," begins the nurse, and I can't help but wince at the name she's just called me, "are you sure you'll be alright going home with Mr. Malfoy?"

I don't particularly have that much of a problem going anywhere with Malfoy, even if he is an extremely annoying git. We would probably just end up having an argument about something, but that's fine. I know _that_ Malfoy. I don't, however, know _this_ one - the one that's currently looking at me like I'm the only person he can see, as if no one else matters. There's a combination of emotions intermingling on his face; I can make out relief, confusion, hurt, frustration and something else that I can't quite work out.

"Home?" I reply, "with Mum and Dad?"

The nurse quickly looks down at the file she's holding and then she glances back up at Malfoy. He looks at her, nods, and then turns to me.

"We can go to you to your parent's house if you'd prefer," he says, looking like saying the words caused him pain.

"Of course I want to go to my parent's house, I live there," I reply, in frustration.

"Rosie, I"- he begins, but I cut him short.

"I told you not to call me that, okay? You call me 'Weasley'. All this is just too weird for me right now." I storm off towards the fireplaces and dig my hand into the little pot beside it and grab some Floo Powder.

Out of my earshot, the nurse looks sympathetically at Malfoy and says, "She just needs some time, Mr. Malfoy. Imagine how this is for her. In her head, she's sixteen years old."

He knows she's right, but he just can't it all in. To imagine that he's lost her - his wife - is just too painful.

"Will she ever get her memory back?" he asks, hopefully.

She shrugs, "there isn't a charm to bring her memories back. We hope that they've only been lost temporarily. Talking to her about your lives together may help."

He just nods, then looks over to the fireplace where I'm still standing, waiting for him. "This is so bloody typical of Rosie. She couldn't just fall off and graze her elbow or bruise her knee, could she? She has to be complicated and lose her bloody memory," he sighs, rubbing his eyes like he hasn't slept for days.

Eventually he starts walking towards me. He's lost his saunter, I notice; the one that I tease him about all the time in Hogwarts… _used_ to tease him about. In my head I was there - at Hogwarts - just yesterday, but in reality I was in my sixth year about five years ago.

His hair is slightly longer than I remember it being, and he's got some short stubble now, making his chin look more defined – although I'm not sure if that's his choice or just because he hasn't been able to shave whilst I've been in hospital.

He opens his mouth, like he's about to say something and then closes it again. I assume he's changed his mind about speaking, but then he does speak, and his voice sounds quiet and nervous.

"Weasley," he begins, and I'm instantly regretting telling him to call me that. I know this cocked-up situation is completely bizarre for me, but it must be equally strange for him too. To him, we've both grown up, fell in love and married. I can't even begin to imagine what must have happened between us for these events to have taken place.

"Could we talk? We need to sort stuff out," he pauses, "I need to"-, he reaches out a hand like he's just about to place it on to my shoulder affectionately, a husband's prerogative I guess, but then he stops himself and shoves his hand into his trouser pocket.

"Right now I just want to go home and see my family," I say.

I also want to check with Hugo and just have it confirmed that this isn't one of his little pranks (albeit that is looking more and more unlikely). Usually it would just be something that Uncle George sneaks to him when Mum's not looking, like that time when he put a portable swamp in my bedroom; it was a new, mini, indoor version Uncle George had just developed.

I throw the Floo Powder into the fireplace, and step into the flames. I shout the name of the house I grew up in and disappear instantly. Scorpius looks at the space where I'd just been standing.

"I'm your family too," he mutters to himself, before following.

* * *

Never have I been more grateful to arrive home. Mum looks up from the piece of parchment she's writing on. Her forehead creases and I watch a big smile appear on her face, "Rosie," she says, coming towards me and pulling me into a tight hug, which reminds me of all the times she's said goodbye to me before I boarded the Hogwarts Express.

I bury my head into her shoulder; Strands of hair that have fallen loose of her ponytail are tickling my cheek. I squeeze my arms even tighter around her, not wanting to let go.

"Hey, what's the matter?" she asks, pulling back and placing her hands on my shoulders. I assume it's so she can get a better look at me. "Is everything ok? What did they say at the hospital?"

I notice there are a few more lines at the corners of her eyes now, but apart from that she's still the same as she was last time I saw her… several years ago.

Before I can even answer, Malfoy appears in the fireplace. He gives Mum a small smile – not a smirk, an actual smile. To my utter disbelief, she smiles back at him, "Hello Scorpius."

Her tone sounds slightly curt. Maybe he is lying after all, I mean, if we were as happily married as he claims then surely Mum would be happy for us, wouldn't she? I raise an eyebrow at him, hoping that I'm giving him a 'I've-caught-you-out-now' look.

"Oi!" I hear someone shouting, as the front door bangs shut, "you knocked our Rosie off your broomstick."

It's Dad, and I'm so happy to see him that I almost miss Malfoy attempting to hide his smile at my Dad's unfortunate choice of words.

"It was accident; I really didn't mean to," he replies. His face has lost all humour now.

"Rosie," Mum's saying because she's suddenly noticed the look on my face, "Rosie, what is it?" she asks.

Her tone of voice has got Dad's attention now, and I can hear him rushing over. It feels like I've got this huge weight in my stomach and a lump in my throat.

"What the bloody hell have you done to her?" Dad asks Malfoy, turning on him.

"Ron," Mum began, sighing.

"She must have banged her head or something, I don't know. She's lost her memory. She woke up thinking we were still in our sixth year. You'll never know how sorry I am," he adds, earnestly, "I shouldn't have been going as fast as I was. I should have stopped when she said she was falling, but she was laughing so I didn't really think she was being serious. I," he falters, like the words are causing him pain, "I should have caught her."

"Lost her memory?" he shouts, his face going red to match his hair. "Too right you should have caught her. And what did you think you were playing at, going that fast. Showing off obviously."

"Ronald," warns Mum. "Just go and see if your tickets for the Chudley Cannon game have arrived yet".

"You know they haven't Hermione, I've just"-

"Well check again," Mum says quickly, cutting him off.

He sighs, glares at Malfoy and then turns back to me. He gives me a quick hug and says, "Granddad Weasley warned you about him, didn't he?" before walking out of the kitchen.

"Now," she says, taking out her wand, "I'll make us a nice cup of tea each and we can talk about this properly".

It doesn't take long before Mum, Scorpius and I are sat around the old, scratched wooden table in the kitchen with a cup of freshly brewed tea in front of us. I've been given mine to me in my old mug; it's one I had to send off for after collecting coupons in Mum's _Witch Weekly_ magazine.

Scorpius has just explained to her exactly what happened in the hospital, and what the nurse said about the possibility of recovery. Mum took in all in, nodding quietly and when he's eventually finished, she turns and looks at me.

"What about you Rosie?"

"What do you mean, '_what about you?_'. I can't tell you anything more than he can. To me, this is all completely ludicrous. Yesterday," I begin and already I can feel tears filling my eyes. My throat starts to burn because I'm trying desperately not to cry. "Yesterday, I was arguing with Malfoy. I hated him; I thought he was idiotic and arrogant and he thought exactly the same about me and then we were given a detention by McGonagall, after which I fell down the stairs. Today, I have woken up to find that I'm now 22, and I'm somehow married to him." I finished off by nodding my head towards Malfoy.

Mum frowns. I think this must be the first time in a long while she's had such a difficult problem to solve. I can hear Dad talking in the other room to someone. I think it's Uncle Harry through the Floo Network.

I look around the kitchen and spot the few differences that I hadn't noticed before. The clock that Granddad Weasley gave us in still next to the fireplace, but now another option has been added: 'Rosie's house'. Currently the hand with my name on it is resting at 'Home'. At least my parent's still consider this as home, even though I have my own house with Malfoy now. I realise that Malfoy has his own hand too, which presently keeps twitching towards 'Moral Peril'.

"I think," Malfoy says, breaking the silence, "that it would be best if Rosie stayed here tonight."

"Too bloody right," I agree.

He winces, and my Mum gives me a sympathetic smile. "Your memory isn't going to come back if you don't at least try, Rosie."

I sigh. Maybe I don't want it to come back because he's just the same to me right now as he was to me in Hogwarts – an annoying git. I really can't think of any reason why I would want to even spend time with him, let alone marry him.

"I'll go and get your bed ready," she says, getting up from the table.

I know she could quite easily do it by magic but sometimes Mum just likes doing things by hand. I also know that the real reason she's left is so me and Malfoy are forced to talk, _and_ she's made it pretty obvious which has just made it even more awkward.

I can't help feeling angry about the whole situation. Being out of control is making me frustrated and worried. It's not fair that I wake up in hospital and I'm told that I'm married. I didn't even get a choice in it; I'm just married and that's it.

"Where did we go on our honeymoon?" I ask him.

The sudden question catches him off-guard. He stares at me for a moment or two.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten Malfoy. I'm guessing it was somewhere amazing?"

He shakes his head at me, "it doesn't matter where we went if you can't remember us getting married."

"And what about where we live, hm? I bet it's some big, huge mansion isn't it? With peacocks and… flamingo's sauntering around in the front garden," I burst.

Again that familiar smirk appears on his face, and for an instant it makes me think he's back to the overconfident Malfoy I knew and hated. But I notice that the smirk is slightly different, as if it's resentful and forced.

"No darling, we got rid of the flamingos a few months ago, because they were showing off too much and their pink feathers didn't coordinate with the huge statue of my face we have in the front garden," he replies, sarcastically. At least I hope he's being sarcastic.

I glare at him. "This isn't funny, you know? I've lost my memory!"

"And I've lost my wife!" he explodes, "but don't start treating like I'm still the same, bratty, big-headed sixteen year old you remember me as. We've both done a lot of growing up over the years. I understand it's hard for you, but it's ridiculously hard for me too!"

I'm slightly taken aback by his sudden outburst, so much so that I can't seem to form any words or coherent sentences to give him a reply.

"This isn't some joke is it? To get out of having dinner at my father's next Thursday?" he asks hopefully. It's the same kind of useless hopefulness I had when I was wishing this was just one of Hugo's pranks.

I shake my head.

"And you can't remember anything? You don't remember that night we spent in the library? Or that party Louis arranged for everyone in the Slytherin common room where you drank too much firewhiskey? Or when all Hell broke loose between James, Lorcan and myself and you stood up for me? Or when you bought me a pair of fluffy socks for Christmas because you were sick of my cold feet in bed? Or when we were both trapped in that particularly grumpy Devil's Snare and Professor Longbottom had to save us?" he pauses, searching my face for any type of recollection.

He sighs. "Or," he begins, speaking softly now, "when we were at your grandparent's wedding anniversary and Arthur insisted on only playing muggle music, but instead of requesting the song you wanted, you just started singing the lyrics into my ear even though it was the end of the night and there was no music playing. We just carried on dancing."

It sounds like he's just telling me certain scenes of a film I've yet to see. I can't ever imagine singing lyrics into anyone's ear or dancing when there's no music.

_Or_ buying Malfoy fluffy socks for that matter.

He rubs his hands over his face, then through his hair and suddenly he's standing up and striding towards the fireplace. I know I should probably stop him so we can talk properly about what we're going to do to sort the whole situation out, but I can't. My obsolete brain is still busy processing the tirade of memories of our relationship.

"Ivy Cottage," Malfoy says clearly, before stepping into the flames and disappearing. Sincere


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews :). It's good to know what you all think of the story so far. So here's chapter five, I hope you enjoy it. **

**Thanks for reading :) – Peaches. **

I'm flipping through my dog-eared copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore. In groups of three, Professor Longbottom (Mum's always made a point of making sure it's 'Professor Longbottom' in Hogwarts, even if we do call him Neville when he visits us at Christmas) has asked us to grow a plant to full maturity whilst also writing a project on the best way to grow it.

"I say we just grow the plant and then write the damn project a week before we have to hand it in; that gives us plenty of time," Malfoy suggests.

It was only after twenty minutes of sitting in the library did Quentin and I realise that Malfoy wasn't going to show up and it took Quentin a further half an hour of trying to locate him. Quentin found him with William Flint, Grantley Goyle and Estelle Zabini directing first years down a corridor, after they revealed they had gotten lost and were trying to find the quickest way to the Astronomy tower. The corridor didn't lead to the Astronomy tower, but it did lead to Peeves and thirty-four water balloons.

Currently, Malfoy was leaning back on his chair, so only two legs of it were on the floor, with his feet up and resting on the old wooden table. He has his eyes closed and his arms folded. He's not paying much attention which really makes me want to shove him off his chair onto his stupid arse, but where would that get me? _Resist Rosie, just resist_.

"We are not just leaving it to the last minute, Malfoy," I answer curtly, "Professor Longbottom said we needed to keep a weekly diary following the progress of our plant".

"I think Rosie's right," says Quentin.

"_I think Rosie's right_," repeated Malfoy in a ridiculously exaggerated albeit rather funny imitation of Quentin.

Forcing a cough to hide my snigger, I turn back to my book. "Now, we do need to choose a plant quite quickly so we can get started."

"How about a Bubotuber?" says Malfoy, "Although it'd be a shame if you ended up getting all that yellow pus on you, wouldn't it Weasley?"

I glare at him. "How about a Venomous Tentacula, Malfoy? Although it'd be a shame if it squirted venom at you or gave you poisonous bite, wouldn't it?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a smirk playing over Malfoy's lips. My urge to push him off his chair increases. I clear my throat and focus my attention elsewhere. "So Quentin, have you got any ideas?"

"How about a Mandrake?" he suggests, "looking after one of those will give us plenty to write about, and we can experiment between dragon dung and mooncalf dung and see in which one they grow best in."

"Excellent," I say, getting quite excited about the whole thing. I love a good project that you can really get stuck into – even if it is with Quentin and Malfoy.

Quentin smiles at me as if I've just told him Honeydukes is giving boxes of Fizzing Whizzbees, Cauldron Cakes and Chocoballs away for free. He looks away quickly and starts to adjust his robes and flatten down his hair.

I take hold of my quill and make a note of the Mandrake idea on a piece of spare parchment I have on the table in front of me. Malfoy sighs loudly, and removes his feet from the table so he can sit up properly. He glances over to consult what I'm writing.

"Weasley, are you writing out a timetable for looking after the Mandrake?" he asks. He leans closer to enable him to get a better look. "Hang on, does that say Martin? _Martin the Mandrake_?" he says, incredulously.

"Oh shut up Malfoy," I reply, having nothing better to say.

Personally I think all Mandrakes should be named as they look like little humans – little humans that are covered in dirt and constantly screeching when not surrounded in soil, I'll admit. For instance, I named the Mandrake I was repotting in my second year, Matilda.

"We could always name it Malfoy, if you'd prefer," Quentin proposes, and I admire him for getting into the spirit of things.

A look of frustration appears on Malfoy's pale face, which pleases me. I finish off writing the rota and out of the corner of my eye I notice Malfoy shaking his head disbelievingly. I know it's getting quite late because students are starting to leave the library to head back to their common rooms.

It's getting windy too. The strong wind outside is making whistling noises, to the great annoyance of Madam Pince who is glaring out of the window as if she was trying to think up a curse to silence the wind for making such a sound in the library.

"Right," I began, "we could probably do with getting out another book so we have a bit more background information on Mandrakes."

"I'll go," says Malfoy.

I arch an eyebrow and look at him suspiciously.

"What?" he asks, "it's only to go and get a bloody book. It's not like I've agreed to go and jump off the top of the Astrology tower, is it?"

Even Quentin seems surprised as Malfoy gets up and heads towards the Herbology section, seven aisles away. As soon as he's gone, Madam Pince rushes over to the table and starts cleaning away imaginary dirt with her feather duster. As soon as she realises to her dismay that we're not planning to leave just yet, she hobbles off to another table and begins to dust that – as well as poor Aoife Finnigan who's fallen asleep and has her head resting on the open book in front of her.

"Pince must be about 100 years old by now," I mutter to Quentin so she doesn't overhear me, "I doubt she'd ever retire and leave her precious books. Do you think-"

"Scorpius has gone," interrupts Quentin.

"To get a book," I reply. Has he just forgotten what happened two minutes ago?

"No, I mean he's gone; he's left the library."

I can feel my anger levels starting to rise inside me. So he thinks he can just sneak off and leave all the work to me and Quentin does he? He's going to get a big shock when I track him down and drag his arse back. I'll tie him down to a chair if I have to and I wouldn't even care how kinky it looked as long as he got some work done.

Then it hits me, like a great tidal wave of realisation. I check my watch and my stomach drops. It's five minutes to 7 o'clock, which means I have said two minutes to reach McGonagall's office to find out what we'll be doing for our detention, since it was originally postponed due to my accident.

I swear loudly and jump out of my seat, earning myself a death glare from Madam Pince. That little blond git! He must have realised the time and has gone to the detention, knowing that I'd arrive late which would make me look bad.

"What? What's the matter?" asks Quentin, looking worriedly at me as I gather my stuff together in a bundle in my arms.

"Detention with McGonagall," I shout over my shoulder as I run out of the library. Madam Pince looks like she's about to have a fit.

I race down the stairs as quickly as I dare to go and down the corridor. Luckily, due to the time, there are hardly any other students about – I'm particularly grateful for the lack of first years as they _always_ seem to try their best to get in my way. As I run around the corner I skid slightly on the stone floor and my heart skips a beat, but I keep on running. I _have_ to get to that detention on time. There is no way my lateness is going to make Scorpius bloody Malfoy look like a better student than me.

"What's the rush, Ro? Is James attacking yet another fourth year for holding Lily's hand? I haven't had nearly enough time to recover from the last family brawl your lot had to get mixed up in this one."

It's Jessie, on her way back from Quidditch practise. Her black, curly hair has been pulled back into a pony tail to keep it out of her face. I stop running and try to catch my breath.

"Detention… McGonagall… I'm late," I manage to gasp between sucking in huge gulps of air. Merlin, I'm unfit.

A look of horror, mixed with humour emerges on her face. "It was nice knowing you Rosie," she says, trying to sound as solemn as she can, whilst trying to fight off the laughter.

"It's not funny! Take these back to the common room," I say and basically force the bundle of things in her arms. I notice Quentin's quill and school tie, which he took off halfway into our library session, are mixed in with the collection of items.

"I'll see you later, alright?" I tell her, before sprinting down the corridor in the direction of McGonagall's office.

When I reach the old, slightly fraying tapestry near the end of the corridor, I pull it back to reveal a passage way; it's a shortcut to a corridor which is just around the corner from McGonagall's office. Having George as an uncle really does pay off sometimes.

Just as I reach the bend in the corridor, I see Malfoy coming up to it from the other direction. He's sauntering, as per usual, with a smug look on his face. The haughty expression all of a sudden falters and then disappears completely, when he sees me standing there.

He stops still and stares at me. His expression changes once again, but this time I can't quite work it out. I know I must look like I've been dragged through a Whomping Willow backwards; I've loosened my tie and undone the top button of my school shirt and my hair is falling out of the bun I had it in, so stands are now loose and hanging around my face. My chest is heaving and I'm still having trouble catching my breath, not to mention the droplet of sweat I can feel running down the side of my neck (although I'm not sure whether that's due to the sudden burst of exercise my body's not used to or fear of being late to a McGonagall detention).

"Beat you," I manage to say, through gasps. Now it's my turn to feel smug. I almost do a victory dance. _Almost_.

"What's the matter?" I ask him, since he's still staring. "Surprised that your little, pathetic plan to get me into even more trouble didn't work?"

I feel like I should pull tongues at him or something, but I'm not five years old so I restrain myself.

I let out a little half-laugh, "lost for words?"

His forehead creases in what I assume is confusion. He stutters, "you could say that."

Suddenly the door to McGonagall's office opens and out she steps. The pinched look on her old face tells me she's not in the best of moods. She frowns at us both, paying particular attention to my scruffy appearance. I quickly neatened myself up. Malfoy looks away, quickly.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, Miss. Weasley. Only just on time, I see," she says. "Well, you'd better follow me."

We both follow her in silence and she leads us back down the corridor Malfoy had just been walking up. I soon realise that we're heading for the Entrance Hall. Inwardly, I groan. Clearly we must be completing the detention outside.

"I swear to Merlin Malfoy, if we're going into the Forbidden Forest to try and round up those Blast-Ended Skrewts-" but I don't need to finish the threat I'm about to mutter, because as McGonagall opens up the doors she starts to head in the direction away from the Forest.

The wind is still strong and bitter, and now I regret giving my school robe to Jess as I've only got on my skirt, school skirt and a pair of tights. I wrap my arms around myself in attempt to maintain some body heat. At least the rain is holding off.

Malfoy has shoved his hands into his pockets and isn't looking in my direction at all. He's got a scowl on his face, even though we appear to be heading towards the Quidditch pitch. We reach the large store room the brooms are kept in. With a flick of her wand, McGonagall opens it, and we all step inside. The room has a musty smell and is quite dusty, with wood shavings littering the floor as well as bits of twig. Another tap of her wand and gas lanterns all flicker on.

"Since Quidditch practise has now finished for the day, I want you two to clean, trim the tails and polish all of the school brooms," she states.

I look around in horror. There's loads of broomsticks in here!

"But Professor," I begin, "that's going to take forever."

"Well you'll have to work together then won't you? And no arguing, that will only waste more time," she replies sternly. "Perhaps you two will have learnt to get along by the time Hagrid comes along to take to both back to the castle."

With that, she turns quickly on her heel, walks out of the door and heads back up to the castle. I watch in dismay; who knows how long we're going to be stuck here, cleaning brooms? Who knows how long I'm going to be stuck here, with _him_?

Malfoy pushes past me. I open my mouth to comment on his rudeness, but stop when I realise he's shutting the door. It is pretty cold in here, with the wind blowing in. He turns around and that's when I realise how close we're standing. We're almost touching and he's got that look on his face again; the one I can't quite describe.

He opens his mouth, as if he's about to say something but then rips his gaze off me and walks past towards the back of the room. I'm left standing by the door, quite unsure of what has just happened.

When I turn around he's upturned a crate, and using it as a seat, he's sat down at has already got started on the first broom of many.


	6. Chapter 6

"Rosie, you have to eat something," Mum says, sounding concerned.

She pushes the plate stacked with a large pile of toast towards me and reluctantly I take a piece and start to spread some butter onto it. It's been a week since I arrived back home and I haven't seen Scorpius (_my husband_) since. He's been to visit of course, but every time I have been hiding up in my room refusing to come down and for a couple of nights I stayed at Al's flat.

He's the Seeker for Puddlemere United now, and it was weird seeing him in his own flat in Dorset. His hair is shorter, so it looks _slightly_ less scruffy than what is was in school and he's grown a good few inches, which took me by surprise as he's always been smaller than me. Once Dad had calmed down after finding out about my accident, he was the one that suggested I visited Al because him and Scorpius become quite good friends during the last year of Hogwarts and even more so since Scorpius and I married – so if anyone could tell me how we ended up together, it would be Albus.

But even he said "it just sort of happened," which wasn't really much help at all. Apparently it came as a huge shock to most people at Hogwarts; not as much as a shock as it was to me though, I'll bet.

I can hear Mum and Dad muttering, but they are sat next to each other and speaking so quietly that I can't hear what they are saying however I know the subject will be concerning me and Scorpius. I let out a sigh as I hear Dad grunt when Mum nudges him with her elbow.

"Just spit it out," I say, looking up from my plate.

"We were just wondering what your plans were for today," replies Dad.

I know he wants to ask something else. "I think I might just go to Al's again this afternoon," I tell him.

"Why don't you invite Scorpius over, you need-" begins Mum.

"I don't _need_ to do anything, alright? I'll talk to him when I bloody want to; it'll be when I'm ready," I say, angrily.

This is why I like going to Al's flat, because he doesn't nag and moan at me that I should be speaking to Scorpius. It must be the hardest for him out of all the family as they're friends. Plus if I stay here and Hugo informs me yet again that I borrowed five galleons from him before I fell off Scorpius's broom, I think I'd be likely to explode. I run a hand through my hair; I'm only just getting used to how long it is now. I start picking the crusts off my toast as Mum and Dad look at each other again and fail to try and communicate without me noticing.

"You could just have a read through of these," Mum suggests at last.

From underneath the table she brings out a wad of envelopes. She must have had them on her lap the whole time. She places them onto the table. I look at them, at the writing that I don't particularly recognise. I'm terrified of what they say inside – of what he has written.

"Yeah, come on, Rosie. Poor Alvin and Maximilian have been flying back and forth for days."

I learnt on the second day of being home (after being woken up by a little fluffy ball pecking at my window) that Alvin was my pet Scops owl and Maximillian belonged to my Mum and Dad.

"Fine," I mutter, grabbing hold of the letters. "I'm going to get ready."

After getting dressed and putting my hair up into a loose bun, I sit down on the bed and stare at the letters. Slowly, I reach out and take hold of the top one. It's the letter that was sent first. I let out a steadily breath as I can feel my nerves rising up inside of me. I flip the envelope over, peel off the red seal and pull the letter out.

"_Rosie,  
Words can't describe how hard it was leaving you at your parent's house. These past few years have been the best of my life; as soon as I realised that I wanted, needed you in my life, everything changed. You taught me that it didn't matter what other people thought as long as we were happy. You taught me to grow up. You showed me what it was like to have everything. I know you can't remember, but you made me so happy. I just hope that one day you'll remember how happy I made you. Did you know you've got a smile that you save just for me? I'm not going to rest until I see that smile again. I can't. I need you.  
Until you come home, to me.  
Scorp"_

My face starts to burn and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes. A lump in my throat is forming. As hard as I try I cannot remember _this_ Scorpius; the one that sounds like he so in love and so heartbroken. It feels like I've been snooping in someone else's room and discovered these secret love letters between two people I hardly know. I wipe the tear away that's starting to fall down my cheek. Why has this happened to me? I've been through what seems like a love story people dream of yet I can't remember a bloody thing about it.

I rip open the next letter, eager to see what it says this time.

"_Rosie,  
I have been sat here for about half an hour, wondering what to write but only managing to think of you - your voice in the morning telling me to wake up, the smell of your hair after you've just gotten out of the shower, the way you twist and snuggle into the shape I'm lying in when we're in bed. I miss your head resting on my chest and the feel of your hand in mine.  
Scorp"_

And then another…

"_I just wanted to send you a picture of us at your grandparent's wedding anniversary. It's one of my favourite pictures of us, even though we weren't even together at this point. We were just friends. Sorry about the crease down the middle, it's the one I keep in my wallet. Take care of it, and yourself. I love you._"

I checked inside the envelope, and there it is - picture of me and Scorpius with a crease down the middle.

We must have been dancing just before someone had called our names and we turned to have the picture taken. We're stood on the dance floor. Behind us, Uncle George is pushing Granddad Weasley in front of him and has started off a conga line. My hair is loose and not as long as it is now. Scorpius is in a suit, one arm is around my shoulders and I've lifted my arm up so I'm holding his hand. In his other hand is a bottle of Knotgrass Mead. I'm looking at the camera and I've got the biggest smile on my face and I'm laughing; I look so happy and relaxed, like I'm completely comfortable at being myself around Scorpius. He however, keeps looking down at me. He's looking at me like he can't quite believe we're there and we're together. He looks happy too, and like he's already in love.

* * *

I arrive at Al's flat an hour or so later. I couldn't bring myself to open up the other few letters so I've hidden them underneath my pillow. But I couldn't quite manage that with the photo, so I've put it into the pocket of my jeans instead. Al brings me a mug of tea as I'm sitting down on his squashy sofa. Underneath his breath he's singing a song by The Weird Sisters. It makes me feel more relaxed because I recognise the tune. I've got my old, oversized jumper on that I always wear when I'm feeling worried or upset. Al must have noticed but he hasn't mentioned anything.

"Lily's in Cannes visiting the pen pal she used to write to in Hogwarts. You know the one who attended Beauxbatons?" Al tells me, taking a small sip of his hot tea.

I just nod. I can't think straight enough to give a proper reply; I feel like I've got a hundred Cornish Pixies flying around my head, muddling everything up.

He checks his watch, "I've got to nip out for a bit. I hope you don't mind. I've got a meeting with Puddlemere but I shouldn't be too long. Wait here for me and we can go out for dinner when I get back, okay?"

I nod again, "yeah that's fine. I'll be fine on my own, Al. Honestly," I add, when he looks hesitantly at the door.

"Okay," he says and gets up. He grabs his coat off the back of the chair and puts in on, "I'll try and be as quick as I can."

He says bye and then leaves; the sound of the front door shutting echoes through the flat. Finally I feel myself calming down. I'm completely on my own so I'm not going to have anyone interrupting my thoughts or nagging me or telling me what I should be doing. I can just sit here and think things through properly and since Al has said he'll take me out for dinner, I'll be able to tell him what I've figured out, if anything. I hope he takes me to a proper restaurant rather that a fast food place like I'm sure James would do.

Suddenly, I hear a thud. I jump up from my seat. I'm pretty sure Al doesn't have a cat or any other pet for that matter which could make such a loud sound. Gingerly I make my way slowly towards the door that leads into the dining room. Abruptly it opens up.

"Al, what was so important that you couldn't tell me in a letter?" says a voice.

It's him. It's Scorpius, standing there in dark jeans and a grey sweater; the sleeves of which are pushed up to his elbows.

"Rosie," he says tenderly, and his expression softens instantly.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, sharply. "Was this your idea?" I question, my eyes narrowing.

"I didn't even know you'd be here. Al sent me an owl asking me to come here as soon as I could, but wouldn't tell me why."

There's an awkward pause between us. Scorpius looks pained. I'm considering all the different forms of revenge I can take out on Al when he gets home, such as breaking his beloved broomstick in half or dying all his clothes pink. He's definitely taking me out to a ridiculously expensive restaurant after this little set up he's planned.

"Why haven't you replied to any of my letters?" he asks me.

I look up at him. I hesitate, wondering whether I should lie and say they got lost in the post or something. But no, this guy is my husband. I still get a funny feeling inside when I think of him in that way, like fear. I just want to run away and Floo back to Mum and Dad's house and hope to Merlin he wouldn't follow me; however I know deep down that wouldn't solve anything and it would just make this huge relationship/mess even worse.

"I was too scared to see what you'd written," I admit.

I turn around and walk back to the sofa. I sit down on it, pull my knees up to my chest and hug them tightly. Scorpius waits for a moment and then follows, sitting down on the armchair.

"How have you been?" he asks.

I shrug, "I've been better."

There's that pause between us again. It feels like we should be making some sort of conversation but I can think of nothing at all to say. It seems neither can he. A few moments of silence go past, with him looking awkwardly at the floor and me staring at the wall opposite the sofa.

"I did open a few of your letters this morning," I confess. "I'm sorry," I add. "I know it must be hard for you."

He clears his throat. "I just want you to come home. I thought sending you those letters would show and prove to you how much I love you."

"I don't need it shown or proven to me, Scorpius. I just need to remember. Something. _Anything_," I say, feeling myself becoming frustrated at how stupid and annoying my own brain is.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, "I can't give you those memories back."

"I know," I reply softly, "and I can't comprehend the jump from us hating each other in Hogwarts to being married."

He looks up from his hands and towards me. I get the feeling from his eyes that he's able to know exactly what I'm thinking, as if he can see straight into my mind. I shuffle in my seat, feeling nervous.

He gives a lop-sided smile, "was I really that bad in school?" he asks.

"Yes, you were completely awful," I tell him, and for some weird reason I find it hard to keep a straight face. "You were the most annoying git in the place."

"You still call me an annoying git," he reveals.

I can't help giving him a small smile. At least not everything has completely changed about him then. I look at him and try to take it all in, every feature, trying to force my brain into remembering. His eyes are still the same shade of grey, but they seem to have more life in them now. His skin isn't as pale as it was and his shoulders are more muscular. He's got a small dimple in his cheek when he smiles properly – it's something I had never noticed in Hogwarts and one feature I'd never imagine seeing on his face. I guess people wouldn't know about it if they've only seen him smirk or scowl.

I let out a steading breath and then reach into my pocket and pull out the folded up photo. I hand it over to him.

"I think you should have it," I say.

"Rosie, I-"

"This photo means everything to you. At the moment it doesn't mean anything to me. I'm sorry."

He takes hold of the photograph in both hands and looks down at it; a happy expression on his face but I can see hints of sadness there too. He looks over to my own hands.

"Your wedding ring," he states but I know it's more of a question. He's asking me why I'm not wearing it.

I reach into my pocket for a second time and take it out. I hand it over to him. He doesn't even attempt to argue with me this time. He just looks down at the gold band in the middle of his hand, reflecting the sun that's pouring in through the glass in the balcony doors.

"I can't wear it, Scorpius. Not until I feel like I'm married again."

He just nods quietly, and puts both of the items into his own pocket.

"I shouldn't have really expected you to carry on wearing it," he admits, shaking his head.

He's gets up out of his seat quickly. "I have to go," he says, heading towards the door.

"Wait," I say.

I know he's upset and he's rushing away because he doesn't want me to see. "Scorpius, please," I add.

But he's already slammed the front door shut. He didn't take the Floo Network so I have no idea where he's going. I rush over to the window and look out to the street below. I can see him on the other side of the road, pacing up and down with his hands balled in his hair and his face all scrunched up like he's never been in this much pain before. He lets his hands drop and looks up to the window. I can see he's been crying.

I have no idea why but I quickly drop down below the window so he doesn't see me watching him, although I think I was a second or so late. I can feel my own tears forming in my eyes and I try to blink them away but to no avail. It's as if my body is telling me I _should_ be missing him and getting upset myself at seeing him so sad - and that's why I've just started crying. My body remembers, why can't my brain?

I wipe my eyes roughly before popping my head back up to look over the window sill, but he's already gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**I just want to say a big thank you to everyone that's reviewed so far and those that are following, or added the story to their favourite story list. It's really encouraging to know what you all think of the story :).  
So here's chapter seven and back to Hogwarts we go.  
- Peaches. **

Cleaning, polishing and trimming the twigs of broomsticks for a McGonagall detention really brings out the OCD in a student and never having really handled a broomstick before (apart from those disastrous flying lessons in my first year) it's taking me the same amount of time to do one broomstick as Malfoy is able to complete three. The room smells musty and even with the door closed, it's still quite chilly. The wind seems to be getting more and more aggressive, rattling the door so much that I keep wondering if it's going to rip it right off its hinges (and no doubt McGonagall would see that as being our fault somehow).

With my eyes narrowed and my forehead creasing, I'm concentrating hard on cutting all the twigs so they looked slightly more aerodynamic than before. It's a Shooting Star; at least that's what I'm assuming it is since the lettering on the handle only reads 'hootin ar'. I'm pretty sure I've heard Al and Jess moaning about having to use them at certain points during their time at Hogwarts, but when Quidditch or flying are mentioned I tend to switch off. Even when there is a match on and the entire school is racing down to the pitch to watch the "nail-biting game" as I'd once heard it being described, I would be rather be in my little sanctuary of a library.

I can feel a dull headache appearing at the back of my head, where I had quickly tightened the bun after received 'The Glare' from McGonagall. I reach up and untie it, releasing my mane of red hair which, although only shoulder length, makes me look somewhat like a baby lion if I have only had time in the morning to quickly dry it with a drying spell and shove it up into a bun. This morning was no exception. I run my hands through my hair, shake my head and then through the tendrils of hair that have fallen over my face I notice Malfoy giving me a quick glance.

"What the hell is that on your head?" he asks, with a smirk playing on his lips.

I just frown at him, unable to give a reply because most mornings I usually think something along the same lines.

He goes back to polishing the broom he's on, but I can still see the smirk so I know he's thinking of something else to say to me. I patiently wait to hear it.

"Are the rumours true, about what happened on your first flying lesson?" he asks, not looking at me as he speaks this time.

"Absolutely and positively not," I reply, "You probably just heard something James made up," I add on quickly. He doesn't look too convinced so I try ignoring him and hope that my cheeks haven't turned a bright crimson with the horrific memory.

"You know I could always give you some flying lessons, if you needed them," he suggests, knowing it will greatly annoy me.

"What? I don't need lessons in flying. I don't _like_ flying anyway so, just theoretically speaking of course-,"

"-Of course-"

"-if I _wasn't_ any good at flying, there would be no point in lessons. Because I don't like flying."

"D'you know what I think, Red?" he asks, and I assume 'Red' is his witty new nickname for me due to the releasing my of curls which he had to witness, "I think you just don't like it, _because_ you're no good at it and you being Little Miss Smarty Pants need to be excellent at everything."

I scowl because (and I'll never actually admit this to him) he's correct. His smirk appears once again.

"Oh just shut up, Malfoy," I retort childishly.

I put down the broom I've just completed into the 'finished' pile and select another one at random. This one looks like someone reversed into a wall and crushed all the twigs into funny angles so they've splayed and are sticking out. There are a few moments of silence. Malfoy also finishes tending to the broom he's on and selects another (one that looks like it doesn't need much work doing to it, I might add) and starts work.

"Anyway," I begin, continuing the topic of conversation, "Why would you want to give me flying lessons?"

"Just for watching you fall onto your arse," he replies and I can see the humour in his eyes as he imagines it.

The mood changes instantly. The image of our argument and then me falling down the stairs instantly comes into my head. I can feel the sickening fear I experienced as I went to stand on a step that wasn't there and then the knowledge that there was nothing else I could do. I think Malfoy's thinking about it too. His smirk has disappeared now to be replaced by a look of anger and frustration.

"By the way, I would have appreciated it if you hadn't sent your bloody cousin out into the corridor. Did you forget to mention to him that I had tried to grab hold of you and stop you falling? Or had that little snippet of memory been knocked out of your brain when you hit your head?"

I'm a little surprised by his sudden change of tone. Clearly this has been building up for a few days.

"I didn't even know James was going to say anything to you, Malfoy. I certainly didn't send him. I was only told when I woke up," I say and I can't help but glare at him.

"Shoved me against the wall more like. I only came to see how you were," he scowls and starts cutting twigs violently.

"How was I supposed to know James had pushed you against the wall?" I ask, my voice rising.

"Oh, so you didn't suspect anything? You're told James I'll-attack-anyone-who-comes-within-a-mile-of-my-family Potter has come out into the corridor as soon as I arrive at the hospital wing and you just think he's told me politely to p*** off?"

I open my mouth to reply but then I snap it shut. I take a few steadying breathes. "James isn't like that."

"Oh no?" Malfoy scoffs, "What about when he found out Lily had been asked out Michael Pucey?"

Lily Potter and Louis Weasley are the only two of my family that Malfoy seems to show any respect towards, after they was placed into Slytherin House. During the sorting, the hat spent a good few minutes on Lily's head, debating which house she would be best in. Eventually, when it shouted out "Slytherin!" she got up and rushed over to the table with a big smile on her face. None of us were particularly bothered and James even got a few laughs when he shouted "Traitor!" at her. She's not the only one who wasn't sorted into the predicted Gryffindor house; as I said before Louis was also placed into Slytherin, Molly was a Ravenclaw, as is Roxanne, and Lucy is a Hufflepuff.

"Yeah… well… she is his sister _and_ Pucey is in the year above her," I try to defend James' actions. I notice Malfoy seeming to get angrier.

In all honestly I do get a bit fed up with James always being the one to stick up for the family and not letting any of us sort out of own problems. In a way though, it is quite nice having someone watch our backs and he's only doing it because he cares so much. This is what I have to tell myself every single time someone comes running up to me to reveal there's a fight happening in the grounds between James and a certain student and it's up to me and Albus to go and sort it out.

Victoire had already left the school before it became a regular occurrence and Dominique has also left now, but she was never really much help anyway. Molly used to help, however she's left too. Louis and Fred used to as well, but since they're both in seventh year now they're always locked away in their dorm room, concentrating on homework. Roxanne constantly seems to be practising Quidditch and Lucy, bless her, is always too scared to get mixed into family fights and squabbles.

I notice the twigs on the broomstick Malfoy is trimming have been cut severely short now. After doing the best I can with the twigs, I start work on the handle with the polish. I keep glancing over at Malfoy, who's looking furious. I sigh and balance the broom across my lap.

"Thank you," I say, breaking the silence between us.

He narrows his eyes and looks at me, "What for? Pointing out what an idiot James is? I hate to break it to you but that trait appears to run in the family."

I frown but manage to hold my tongue from retaliating. "No, for trying to stop me from falling down the stairs," I say.

He sneers at me. "Don't expect me to do it again, if all I get for my efforts is being shouted at by your bloody cousin and a belated apology."

"Oh, just sod off then," I snap.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," he shouts, standing up.

I stand as well. "And what are you going to do, Malfoy? Attack me with a broomstick and a bit of polish?"

He's standing close and glaring at me. I can see his chest rise and fall with every angry breath he takes. "Don't tempt me."

"You can't tell me what to do; I'm not your House Elf!" I reply, feeling angrier.

"I'm surprised you even know what House Elves are supposed to be for. Didn't your mother try and bring in that new law to give them more rights? It's just pathetic."

"Don't. You. Dare. Call. My. Mother. Pathetic!" I yell, hitting him on the chest with every other word.

He grabs hold of my wrist and holds onto it tightly. He brings his face so close to mine I can feel his breath on my face.

"You do that again and you'll regret it," he says calmly, which makes him seem even more furious.

I try to wrench my arm feel of his grip, but he's still holding onto it securely. He gives me one final glare and then looks me up and down before sneering, "You're not even worth it."

He lets go of my arm and sits back down on the crate to get back to work. We've still got quite a few brooms left to go before we can leave. I'm fuming. I know I shouldn't have hit him but he makes me so mad – especially when he made that comment about mum. I turn and head for the door, but as soon as I open it I regret it. A storm has started up outside and I hadn't even noticed. Rain is coming down in heavy sheets of steel grey and the wind is bitter and stronger than before. Lightning strikes in the distance, making me jump. I manage to force the door shut and wipe the rain off my face and arms. I wasn't even exposed to the weather for long but already the front of me is soaked.

I let out a low groan and sit back down on the crate. Malfoy keeps sending me death glares every now and then, and shaking his head as if he can't quite believe he's stuck in here with me. I get started on cleaning the broomsticks again and hope to Merlin that when Hagrid eventually does come for us that he brings an exceptionally large umbrella with him.

I do believe Malfoy suffers from PMS, the amount his moods have been changing so much over the past few days – well, since my accident really. He was being quite nice before (and I mean 'quite nice' in the loosest term possible – it is Malfoy I'm talking about) and then all of a sudden he's reminded about my family and it's like something's been triggered in his brain to make him moody and just plain nasty once again. He and James have had arguments before, usually about Quidditch matches, but he's never reacted like this before.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity and just as I've finished my last broomstick, the door opens up and Hagrid's huge body is standing just behind it.

"C'mon now, Professor McGonagall sent fer me to come and get yer both," he says.

I feel like jumping up and down in relief. Not one word has been spoken between Malfoy and me since the argument and the tension was becoming insufferable.

"Bit of a storm outside, I'm afraid," comments Hagrid as he stands aside to let us both out.

The 'bit of a storm' is just as horrendous as it was before. The rain is so heavy it's hurting my face and arms as it lands. Instantly my hair is plastered to my head and my shirt becomes stuck to my body. I cross my arms over my chest for some protection and warmth, even though it's not helping overly much – if at all. After Hagrid has locked up the store room, we start to trudge back to the castle. The ground has become a vast muddy puddle and I slip and slide a few times. Annoyingly, Malfoy manages to keep his balance and doesn't skid once.

Complete darkness has fallen and I dread to think what time it must be. The big door that leads into the Entrance Hall has been left open a little bit. Already the rain has seeped in and has left a small pool of water which may cause Filch to threaten disembowelment to the nearest student when he discovers it tomorrow morning. Hagrid allows us both to go in through the door before saying good night and locking the door from the outside. I hope he's been able to fix those leaks he mentioned last time we all went down to his hut for a visit, otherwise it's going to be like a swimming pool.

"Well this has certainly been one of my better evenings," says Malfoy, each word dripping with sarcasm.

We were now standing at the point where Malfoy has to turn left towards his common room and I have to head in the opposite direction, towards mine. I placed my hands on my hips and looked up at him.

"Let's just not talk to each other from now on, okay? Apart from when we have to meet up to do this bloody project," I reply.

Although I would be tempted to just hand notes to Quentin and have him read them out to Malfoy if I needed to say anything to him.

"That's if you can handle not shouting abuse at me in the corridors," he sneers.

"Stop being such an arrogant, self-centred arse. I've got better things to do with my time than-" I pause as the smirk on his face widens. I've just proven his point.

I snap my mouth shut and narrow my eyes.

"I can see straight through you," he comments. For the briefest of moments his gaze fleets down to my chest, where my shirt has turned quite transparent due to how sodden it became in the rain. Quickly I cross my arms over my chest and scowl at him; however he doesn't seem to care. "You're so," he pauses, as if he's searching for the right word, "_predictable_."

My mouth drops open, but he just turns and saunters away, rather pleased.

"I am not predictable! You little-" but I stop myself, as he turns his head to smirk at me.

I let out what could possibly be described as a growl and start to trek up the stairs towards the common room. I'm still seething as I mutter the password to The Fat Lady ("Puffskein") and climb through the hole. Kerry and Jess are the only students still up, sat in the comfiest armchairs by the roaring fire. I walk towards it and sit right in front of it to warm myself up and dry off. Kerry puts down the The Daily Prophet she'd been reading onto the low table in front of her and arches an eyebrow at my appearance and facial expression.

"What happened?" she asks.

"That Malfoy," I begin (although I do add in a few swearwords in-between).

They both give each other a knowing glance. Jess sighs, "go on."

"Well we were stuck in detention with each other weren't we? First of all he starts making fun of my hair and then says I can't fly on a broomstick-"

"But you can't Rosie, don't you remember when-" Jess interjects but the expression on my face cuts her off, "Never mind. Carry on."

"Then, he starts moaning about how James had a go at him when he came to visit me in the hospital as if it was my fault! I'm not in bloody control of James, am I?"

Footsteps on the stairs make me stop, but it's only Albus. He's already changed into his pyjamas and is wearing the slippers my mum and dad got him last Christmas.

"I'm just looking for my," then he sees me sat in front of the fire, still drenched and splattered in mud, "what's the matter?" he asks.

"Malfoy," say Kerry and Jess in unison.

Seemingly forgetting that he came down to search for something (probably his latest _Which Broomstick_ edition which is on the table), he sits down on the sofa and waits expectantly to hear what I've got to say.

"So then after complaining about James, he starts on about my mum. Saying how her attempt to get House Elves more rights when she got her job at the Ministry was pathetic. No one calls my mum pathetic-"

"But he didn't," comments Albus.

I frown at him.

"He just called her attempt pathetic; he didn't actually called Auntie Hermione pathetic, did he?" he points out.

"Well… no," I admit.

"What happened then?" asks Kerry.

"I might have hit him," I reply quietly, "But you didn't see his face. Honestly it's a wonder I didn't bloody punch him. I only hit him on the chest, and it wasn't even _that_ hard," I justify.

"How muscular was his chest?" asks Kerry, shuffling closer to the edge of her seat.

"What?" I frown, "I didn't even notice," I tell her. I shake my head, "After that we didn't talk at all until Hagrid came and brought us back up to the castle and _then_ Malfoy has the cheek to call me predictable!"

I wait for the three of them to start commenting on how outraged they are at his unfounded claim, but instead they just sit there in silence and look at each other awkwardly. Al scratches his head and Kerry becomes suddenly very interested in her nails.

"Hang on," I say standing up, "you all think I'm predictable too?"

Suddenly they all begin to defend me, saying how Malfoy's allegation is "ridiculous", "ludicrous" and "just like the cauldron calling the kettle, black". But it's too late and I know they all must agree with him, even if it's just a little bit. I'm not _that_ predictable, am I? I mean, I know I always wear my hair in exactly the same style for school but that's only because it's easy and it saves time in the morning… and I know I'm almost always the first to raise my hand to answer a question in class or hand an essay in, but there's nothing wrong with being a good student…

Oh Merlin. I am predictable aren't I?

"Well I don't care anyway. Being predictable is good. It means I'm reliable," I say.

"Or boring," adds Kerry, shrugging. "Hey!" she exclaims suddenly, seemingly unaware of the slight offense she's just caused. "I heard your Louis is having a party in the Slytherin common room."

"Oh yeah, Fred said it was something about being fed up with revision and wanting to let their hair down for one night," explains Al.

I frown, "and don't they realise how many school rules they'd be breaking? Underage drinking and being up after hours just to name a couple. It's _good_ that they've been working hard for their exams; they're not called the Nicely Easy Wizarding Tests are they?"

I stop. All three of them are looking at me with their eyebrows raised; a 'look-at-how-predictable-you're-acting' expression on their faces.

"Fine," I shrug, "I _won't_ go and tell McGonagall about it but don't any of think for one minute that I'll be attending this reckless party."

Their expressions stay exactly the same.

"Fine! I'll go. I'll go to this stupid bloody party but I know no good will come of it, and afterwards when we're all regretting it because we're in detention cleaning the toilets in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, I'll be sure to say 'I told you so'," I say, before heading towards the girl's dormitories.

"Do you think she'll be alright?" asks Jess, looking from Kerry to Albus.

"Oh she'll be fine, a bit of Fire Whiskey will do her good," replies Albus, although his face gives away that he's slightly unsure about the whole thing, having never seen Rose drink more than a few glasses of eggnog at Christmas.

**Did you like that chapter? Did you loathe it? Thank you for reading :).**

**I'm sure most of you will know, but just in case some people aren't up to date with the next generation, I'll just explain who they belong to:  
Victoire, Dominique and Louis = Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour  
Molly and Lucy = Percy and Audrey Weasley  
Fred and Roxanne = George Weasley and Angelina Johnson **

**Peaches xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello again :). Here's chapter 8. Thank you for all the lovely reviews – they really make me smile :).  
[Note: I had a little bit of trouble trying to upload this document; it kept deleting the gaps in between the lines but _hopefully_ it's been sorted out now :).]  
- Peaches xx **

Scorpius Malfoy is standing in the middle of a busy and bustling street in the village of West Lulworth, Dorset, staring across the road at the little ice cream shop. It's 5:47pm on a Tuesday, summer evening.

The day had started off normally enough; Scorpius had woken up before his alarm was due to go off and yet again he'd rolled over to put his arm around his wife, but she wasn't there. He'd gotten out of bed and made his way into the large kitchen. When they had bought the cottage six months ago, Rose had insisted that they extended the kitchen so it was big enough to fit in a table that was _at least_ big enough to seat twelve people. The sunlight had been pouring in through the big window, yet it just seemed to accentuate the feeling of his loneliness; it highlighted how empty it was.

He'd opened the cupboard, to take out his box of cereal and his fingers brushed against her box of 'Choco Cauldrons'. His heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, he thought to himself, that her silly, childish cereal would have such an effect on him. It even had a picture of a hippopotamus on the front, who was wielding a magic wand as he "added magic to every bite". It even came with a toy, for Merlin's sake. As soon as she got home after buying a new box, she'd open it and "accio" the toy out. It was strange because she was so grown up and mature about everything else.

He had to get a grip and he had to pull himself together. It was no good to feel like he was about to fall to pieces over things as stupid as a box of cereal, slippers left in the middle of the bedroom floor, a towel still hanging on the radiator in the bathroom or a note stuck to the door of the fridge, telling him that she'd be home late as she was going shopping with Roxanne after work.

But that had been this morning. Since then, Scorpius had managed to drag himself to work and somehow made it through the day, even with Grantley Goyle shouting "I take it your wife's still acting like she's can't remember you Malfoy?" down the corridor after him, before bursting into laughter. Goyle was one of the few people who hadn't been shy when voicing his somewhat disgusted opinion about Scorpius marrying "that Weasley girl".

He'd eventually finished work and had decided to get out of the Floo Network early - at the pub just down the road - so he could walk the last 10 minutes, since it was such a nice evening. Now he was standing quite still, getting in the way of locals and tourists alike – and not particularly caring. One woman scowled at him and moaned to her friend about how much of the pavement he was taking up, as she struggled past him with eight shopping bags and a pram, which carrying her screaming child.

Scorpius wasn't even _slightly _interested in what was going on around him because sat right in the window and chatting to Lily Potter was Rose. Perhaps 'staring' is the wrong word to use. Scorpius Malfoy is mesmerised.

* * *

"What?" I ask, incredulously, "We had a dinner party?"

Lily nods, "and it was a best dinner party ever. It was a complete disaster," she replies enthusiastically.

"What happened?" I question, eagerly. I watch as she takes a spoonful of her rum and raisin ice cream and tries to not laugh.

"It was definitely a case of too many wizards spoiling the potion. You were so stressed out about the whole thing so Auntie Hermione took you out into the garden for a bit of fresh air and said Scorpius could handle it. But then James, Fred and Hugo all got involved," explains Lily.

"Oh Merlin," I mutter.

Lily bursts out laughing at the memory, "you both came back inside to find Hugo was managed to blow up the starter, James had dropped the main course all over the floor and Fred had 'accidently' put a charm on the chocolate cake so it kept jumping around the kitchen, splattering chocolate and cream everywhere."

My spoon of butterscotch ice cream pauses on the way to my mouth, "what happened then?"

"You just looked around the room that was covered in smoke and chocolate. Scorpius edged up to you, looking slightly worried as if he expected you to explode or something and put a glass of Fire Whiskey into your hands. You were completely speechless," she finishes, tears streaming down her face at the thought of my utter despair.

"Well I hope they all cleaned up after themselves," I reply.

Lily nods and swallows her ice cream, "Auntie Hermione and mum did a few quick cleaning spells and had it all back to normal in no time. Then Al suggested just ordering in a few pizzas. You relaxed after a few glasses of wine," she pauses thoughtfully, "Actually you became quite tipsy. When we left, Scorpius was trying to get you up the stairs to put you to bed."

"We certainly won't be hosting the next one," I comment, finishing off my ice cream. "That's if I get my memory back," I add.

Lily raises her eyebrows, "That's exactly what you said when you spoke to me the day after it all happened."

There are a few moments of silence as the waiter comes over and clears away our bowls. Lily asks for the bill and it doesn't take him long to get a receipt for us. I take out my purse, but Lily shakes her head.

"My treat," she says, bringing a muggle note out of her purse and leaving it on the table.

We gather our shopping bags together and head towards the door. I've been staying at Al's since Malfoy's visit as I couldn't really face going back home to yet more nagging from mum and dad. Plus Al promised that he'd never invite Malfoy over again whilst I was there and force us into talking – that is, until I'm ready to face him anyway. He told Lily that I had been staying over so this morning she came by and dragged me out to save me from just spending day after day cooped up inside Al's flat.

At first I was reluctant, but after spending a bit of money and eating some delicious ice cream I'm glad I ventured outside. It's such a sunny and warm day too. The streets are packed with tourists, as well as locals, all out enjoying the sunshine while it lasts. Lily links her arm through mine; it's something which she had never done in Hogwarts (nor something I could ever imagine her doing) but she does it so casually that it makes me think this is something she now does with me quite a bit.

"Now," she says, "are you sure you're going to be alright getting back to Al's flat on your own? I don't mind walking back with you."

I shake my head, "There's no point Lil - I know the way from here. Walk straight on until I get to the Hairdressers, then turn left and after that take the second right," I reel off the simple directions she's told me a dozen times.

She gives me a half smile, and then to my utter shock, she drops her bags and throws her arms around me. "Just hurry up and get back to normal, okay?"

I nod as she lets me go. "I'm going to take this Floo in here," she says, pointing towards the old Inn. It looks like it should have fallen down by down so I suspect it's being kept up by numerous magic spells and enchantments. Other people walking past us aren't giving it a second glance which makes me assume it can't be seen by muggles.

"I'll come and visit you again soon," she says as she struggles with the bags in her hands to open up the door to the pub.

I say bye to her and watch her walk in. I hear her greeting the bartender just before the door closes. I sigh, feeling happy for the first time in quite a while. I start making my way in the direction of the hair dressers, which has large pictures in the window of hairstyles that are apparently 'award-winning' but that no one would actually want. I hear footsteps jogging towards me from behind.

"Rosie."

I know it's him. I know it's him before I even turn around. I'm stuck to the spot. Wondering how he knew I was here. Was it Albus again, or Lily this time? Whichever one there will be murder, I swear. I become aware of him walking up and around me, so he's stood in front of me with a half-smile, half-smirk on his face.

"Oh, hi," I say, as if I've only just noticed he's standing right there.

"Hello," he replies.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, suspiciously.

"Walking home from work," he replies quite casually, as if this is a normal conversation between two people who remember each other, "what about yourself?"

"Just a bit of shopping, you know," I say, glancing down at my bags.

There's a pause in which I'm looking everywhere apart from his face and he's looking directly at me.

"So, you work around here then?" I question, wanting to break the silence.

At exactly the same time he asks, "Do you fancy getting something to drink?" and nods his head towards the Inn.

I stutter, not sure what to say. Do I want to have a drink with him? Part of me just wants to turn and run away and hide in Al's flat (although, since he knows where Al lives I can't see this plan working out very well). Another part of me actually wants to, just to hear what he has to say and to learn a bit more about my life with him. Lily's accounts of our engagement party, last Christmas and _that_ dinner party has given me a thirst to find out more.

"I'll tell you if you come for a drink," he replies teasingly, to the question I asked him.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"I'll even offer to carry your bags for you."

"Oh how very gentlemanly of you," I reply. I try to keep a straight face, but I can't quite manage it.

He smirks – but it's a different smirk than the one he used to have plastered on his face all the time at Hogwarts. I suppose it's quite nice actually.

I hold out my bags for him to take. He grabs the handles and then swiftly moves over to the door of the Inn and opens it up. I can't help smiling as I walk past him and in through the door. From the outside, the Inn looks like it would be dark and grimy inside but actually it's quite cosy and well-lit. The chairs look worn but comfortable, and the windows that are open are letting in a cool breeze so it's not stuffy like I expected.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," says the bartender as soon as we enter.

"Hello Eddy," says Scorpius.

He places his hand on the small of my back, and guides me towards a booth in the corner of the room. As soon as I felt this hand there, I instantly wanted to ask him '_What in the name of Merlin are you doing?'_ But the tingling sensation I felt, that seems to shoot right through my back and to the base of my belly, had me keeping my mouth shut. I sit down and he places my bags next to me. Then he heads towards the bar and begins to talk with Eddy the bartender in a jovial and friendly way. I get the feeling we're regulars here.

He comes back after a minute or so and places a large glass of wine down onto the table in front of me, before sitting down beside me with a glass of Fire Whiskey in his hand. I eye the glass suspiciously.

"A large?" I ask.

He smirks. "The more you have to drink, the longer we have to talk."

"Or," I begin, lifting my glass, "the more I have to drink, the tipsier I get." I take a small, tentative sip. "Elderflower wine," I say, smiling at him, "I've tried it a few times when Grandma Weasley has made it."

A genuine smile slowly appears on his face, "I know. It's your favourite. And it's nice to see you smile like that." He takes a small drink of his whiskey, "Oh and Eddy sends his best regards and hopes you're feeling better soon."

I blink at him. "They all know about my accident?" I ask, looking around the pub. There's an old witch sat at the bar, slurping something out of a dark, brown bottle who's smiling kindly at me and waving. Having no idea who she is, I give her a small wave back.

"They know about the accident, yes. They don't know about you losing your memory," he replies.

"Oh," I say simply, taking another look around, "well that's alright I suppose."

I take another sip. Bloody hell this stuff is really nice. I become aware of Scorpius watching me. Feeling slightly awkward, I put the glass down and mess with my shopping bags by pretending to arrange them into a particular order.

"When's the inquisition going to start?" he asks. I frown at him. "You wanted to know if I worked around here. I'm assuming you've got some other questions too."

I have loads of other questions. I should have written down a list or something because I know as soon as I get back to Al's flat I'll remember something I wish I'd grilled him about.

"So do you work around here then?" I ask, repeating my earlier question.

"No," he answers to my surprise. "_We_ live around here. I work in London."

"How close is our house?" I ask, instantly. I look out of the window and imagine myself walking down the street in my normal every day life, passing all the different shops and popping into the Inn every now and then.

He smiles. "It's about a ten, fifteen minute walk. And it's a cottage, not a house," he adds.

"But then," I begin, my forehead furrowing, "that means we live really close to Albus. How come he never mentioned it?"

Scorpius shrugs. "Did you ever ask him?"

I shake my head. Again I glance out of the window, amazed that we live somewhere so pretty and quaint. I lean back and relax against the back of the seat. Scorpius angles his body so he's sitting facing me. His right arm is resting on the back of the booth, only a couple of centimetres away from my shoulder. His thumb keeps moving closer and away again, as if he really wants to put his hand on my skin but knows it's probably not the best thing to do.

"What do we do in our spare time?"

"Visit your countless relatives mostly. We had to make a rota."

"No we have not," I exclaim, and I can't help but laugh.

He smiles, "Okay, we haven't but we bloody well need to." He pauses to think about the question, "we take walks around the cove, we go out for dinner, we go and watch Al playing Quidditch, you go jogging and shopping – although not at the same time -, I attempt complete the crossword in The Daily Prophet before you can get your hands on it, I play Quidditch with Al when I can, and you're trying to learn how to knit."

I slowly try and take it all in, imagining us doing all the things he mentioned. Together.

"Am I good at knitting?"

He pauses, "I'd say… horrendous."

I give him a fake scowl.

"You're doing well though. Hopefully in a few years you will have completed your first scarf," he says, mockingly.

I take a few more sips of wine as I try and think of another question, but I have so many whizzing around my head like a load of Cornish Pixies that it's hard to pick just one.

"Do we have a garden?" I ask.

"Yes, we have a garden. We've got a view of the sea too. You're attempting to grow tomatoes at the moment, because you failed growing carrots," he answers. As he says every word he's looking straight into my eyes, but it's not making me feel uncomfortable anymore – or not as much as it did, anyway.

"I do hope you're watering them," I say, trying to sound nonchalant but in my head I'm thinking how odd it is that I'm discussing vegetable care with Scorpius Malfoy.

He smirks. "Of course not; we've got a bet on that you'll fail at these too. If you don't produce a single tomato you owe me two galleons and," he smirk broadens, "something else which I'd rather not discuss in here."

I narrow my eyes at him. "That's sabotage."

"Of course it is darling, but a bet's a bet and I'm very determined to win."

There's only a little bit left in my wine glass. I hadn't realised I'd drunk so much. I take hold of my glass and finish the rest, and then turn to Scorpius to see a serious expression has washed over his face and replaced the smirk.

"Come home with me," he says.

"Scorpius-," I begin.

"To see the cottage, it might jog a few memories. Or just to save your tomatoes," he adds, forcing a smile but I know inside he's hurting. He can tell by my expression what I'm about to say.

"I can't. I have to get back," I tell him, grabbing hold of my bags and shuffling along the seat and out of the booth.

"Rosie-,"

"It's too soon, okay? This," I gesture to the table and the empty glasses, "was nice. But visiting our home is just too soon. I'm sorry, I have to go."

With that I make it out of the Inn as quickly as I can, nearly taking out a passing old man with one of my larger bags. I reach the end of the street, breathless due to panic. I turn, but he hasn't followed me.

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy is sitting in the corner of a quiet and cosy Inn, in the village of West Lulworth, Dorset, staring down at the empty wine glass on the table in front of him. It's 6:58pm on a Tuesday, summer evening.

The evening had started off pleasantly enough; Scorpius had been on his way home from work when he'd met up with his wife, Rosie. They had shared a drink and for a few moments it felt like she was coming back to him, like she was about to say "We'd best get going Scorp, we need to get dinner on and I want a bath and an early night tonight". He would have nuzzled into her neck and suggested something along the lines of them sharing a bath.

But that had all been wishful thinking. Since they had finished their drinks, she had once again pulled away from him, from fear or apprehensiveness perhaps. He didn't know. She had left and once again Scorpius Malfoy was quite alone.

**I hope you enjoyed it :)  
- Peaches xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry about that :). I tried to make this one extra longer to make up for it. Let me know what you all think. **

**Here's chapter 9 – enjoy :)!**

**Peaches, xx. **

Lying down next to the lake after completing all my homework, with the hot sun warming my face and arms and a cool breeze that moves my hair gently, has got to be one of the most perfect ends to the day. I'm out here alone, getting some quality and quiet reading time before heading back to the stuffy, noisy common room. I should definitely do this kind of thing more often, perhaps when the next Quidditch match is on I'll come down here and relax and no one will interrupt me because they'll all be watching the stupid game. It'll be lovely.

A slight splashing noise in the water has me rolling over onto my side. The scene in front of me causes me to frown because walking casually out of the water as if he's just been for an early evening swim is Scorpius Malfoy. What in the name of Merlin is he swimming in the lake for? Secondly, I ponder, why is he still in his school uniform? I sit up so I can get a better view.

He's walking towards me, with a look of intent and determination on his face. He reaches a hand up and brushes his hair back. He's soaked. His white shirt has turned see-through and is sticking to every inch of his chest. - And _oh Merlin_, what a chest. Do the Slytherin boys' dormitories have a gym built in or something? Surely there is no way he can get that muscular from just playing Quidditch? Slowly, after running my eyes rather slowly over him, I notice his shoulders and arms too. Every detail of him looking like it's been crafted by some sort of God who's aim is to distract school girls from their work.

"Malfoy?" I say, when he's close enough to hear me. I attempt for a nonchalant expression on my face. I don't want him getting even more big-headed than he already is.

He smirks, quite sexily if I may add, and without saying anything he gets down on his knees and pushes my back down onto my back.

"What the-?" I ask, but I'm cut off.

His lips crush against mine with such eagerness and passion that I'm first I'm completely lost in it and for a moment I entirely forget who it is. He's leaning over me, both of his hands on the grass at either side of my head. Bloody hell, he's a good kisser… but this is Scorpius. Wait, WHAT?!

I sit up quickly. He's not there anymore. Frantically I look around and realise that I'm in bed. I can hear Jess snoring ever so slightly behind the closed curtains of the bed next to mine. I let out a slow, deep breath and sink back down into my pillows. It was just a dream, nothing to worry about. It's not like I actually want to kiss Malfoy or anything, because that would just be ridiculous and stupid.

I mean, when I had that nightmare last week about McGonagall informing me I'd completely failed every subject and that I may as well go and apply for a job similar to that of a House Elf, it wasn't my brain telling me I actually wanted to fail, was it? Quite the opposite in fact; and that's exactly what this is.

My watch tells me it's only 3:40am, giving my enough time to settle down and get a few more hours of precious sleep before lessons. In fact, by the time I wake up for breakfast I'll have probably forgotten all about the dream. I'll try and tell Kerry and Jess about it, but it will have just become a blurry haze of the lake and sunshine.

* * *

Ok. I haven't forgotten about it at all. In fact, I _can't_ stop thinking about it. It probably doesn't help matters that the lesson straight after lunch is Herbology. With the Slytherins… with Malfoy.

"You're not hungry?" Jess asks.

I come out of the trance-like state I was in and realise that my plate is empty. The Hall around us is buzzing with students, stuffing their faces with food or moaning about the amount of homework they've been given for Charms.

"You're not on a diet, are you?" quizzes Kerry, eyeing me suspiciously as she munches on a piece of chicken pie.

I frown. "Of course not. I've just got stuff on my mind that's all," I reply as I help myself to two pieces of toast and ladle some baked beans onto them.

She narrows her eyes. "I'm sure I read in a magazine something about a baked bean diet," she replies, distrustfully.

I shake my head and sigh. Kerry's always reading magazines with stuff like that it – you know the type, ones that don't actually teach you anything of importance, just whether the drummer out of the Weird Sisters is going back out with his model girlfriend - _again_.

I scoop up a forkful of baked beans. "Those magazines are just-" I pause from yet another tirade on how those magazines are turning her brain into mush, all of which Kerry has heard before and won't (and probably never will) take any notice of.

Scorpius Malfoy has just sauntered into the room, slapped one of his Slytherin friends on the shoulder and sat down next to him. I watch him, all the while thinking about that stupid, bloody dream. I mean honestly, why would my brain even make up something like that as I was sleeping? I watch as he picks up a chicken sandwich and takes a massive bite out of it. I note with distain that he doesn't appear to have his school bag with him, which implies he hasn't even attempted to do any work for our project together. My bag on the other hand is so jam-packed with books and notes that the seams are extremely close to ripping.

"Er, Rosie?"

"What?" I ask, quickly bringing my attention back to my friends who are looking at me rather oddly.

Jess frowns. "You've split your beans".

I look down and see the orange-coloured sauce staining my white school shirt. "Ah, boll-" I begin, but McGonagall passing the table at precisely that moment has me stopping mid-sentence.

She storms straight past us, and stops a little further down the table to tell James off for having taken his tie off.

"Anyway," Jess continues as I feebly attempt to rub the stain away, "I take it the Herbology project isn't going too well?"

"No, no. It's fine. It's perfect in fact. I've done all the work I needed to do for it," I reply, getting more and more frustrated with the stain.

Jess raises her eyebrows, "oh right, so you gave Malfoy a death stare because the project's going as planned? Makes sense."

* * *

I sigh and drop my hands into my lap. Accepting the fact it's not going to come out without magic, which can only be performed in the classrooms. "Well obviously Malfoy has done sod all. It'll mean I have to stay up late tonight to try and get some more work done to make up for it."

Kerry shakes her head, "tonight, my dearest nerdy friend, you're attending a party your gorgeous cousin is holding."

I open my mouth to try and talk my way out of it, but I know there would be no point because one way or another they'll end up forcing me to go. I could just go for an hour or so, have a few glasses of butterbeer and then sneak to the library to do a bit of work. It's not like I'm ever going to be the life and soul of a party so I doubt I'll be missed. Kerry will be too busy flirting with Louis and Jess will be talking tactics with Albus to notice I'm not there.

Jess and Kerry start chatting about the party; discussing what Kerry is going to wear and Jess wondering whether any drinking games will be played. I sincerely hope not, but I keep my mouth shut and nod along in all the right places until the slow movement of the students indicate it's time to head back to lessons.

Surprisingly the Herbology goes okay – in fact, it's quite enjoyable. Mainly due to the fact that a certain someone doesn't even bother to turn up to the lesson – he's probably been distracted by a mirror or something – so Quentin and I manage to get a fair bit of the project written up, with a plan jotted down for the rest of it. We spend the second half of the lesson repotting our Mandrake and making sure it's warm and comfortable. The end of the lessons arrives and sooner than expected I'm being half-dragged up the stairs to the dormitories so Kerry can pick out an outfit for tonight. We should be using these times when we have no lesson timetabled to complete homework, but for this afternoon I don't even mention it.

Jess is busy at a Quidditch meeting, so it's my job to go through Kerry's choices.

"Ok, what do you think about this one?" she asks me, coming out of the bathroom in the fifth outfit she's tried on.

"Yeah, I like that one," I comment – which is similar to the comment I've given to all of the previous ones.

She frowns and walks over to the mirror, on ridiculously high heels that make me feel a twinge of jealously because she walks in them so effortlessly; as if her feet were made to walk in high heels.

"I'm not too sure about the skirt," she says, turning around and attempting to get a look at what she looks like from behind. "I think I like the second one the best."

"So wear the second one. You look good in anything so I don't think it really matters what you're wearing," I say honestly.

She beams at the compliment and gives a twirl. "Now we just need to sort you out," she says, excitedly.

A moment of silence passes. "What?" I ask.

"Well you're not going like that," she replies, slightly outraged, pointing to old pair of jeans I have on and baggy jumper.

"There's nothing wrong with it," I say defensively, which there isn't.

Kerry gives me a look, which I know means she wants to give me a makeover. I shift further onto my bed and place a pillow onto my lap as if it will protect me from the evils within Kerry's makeup case.

* * *

Luckily I managed to get out of having any sort of makeover. I even managed to fight off Kerry brandishing a lipstick at me and trying to apply it to my lips. Eventually she gave up and, with a slight scowl on her face, set about doing her own makeup. Now it's just after half 8 and the three of us, plus Albus are heading towards the Slytherin common room. It sounds like the party is already in full swing, with the beat of the music thudding through the stone walls. The door has been jammed open with a library book (I go to save it so I can take it back to the library but Jess grabs hold of the collar of my jumper and drags me inside.

The dim common room is lit only by the somewhat creepy greenish lights. There's already quite a large number of students here, and crates of mead are being passed around. Albus manages to intersect a crate and we all take a bottle. I take a swig and 'vile' is the only word to describe the taste. I'd much rather be drinking a cup of tea but I doubt I'll get one here. I take another gulp. Maybe it'll taste better after I get a bit used to it. Kerry takes hold of Albus' hand and leads him over to the makeshift dance floor and they both start jumping around to a song I'm pretty sure I've heard before.

Jess and I make our way over to a couple of spare chairs in the corner of the room. Jess is just telling me about the tactics for the next Quidditch match when all of a sudden Aidan Finnigan appears on my lap. He knocks my bottle and my jumper becomes drenched in mead. His friends behind him are laughing.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Rose," he says, in his Irish lilt that has me telling him everything's fine. With that accent he can do no wrong in my opinion.

"We got a bit too eager dancing," he explains, "I'll get you another," he offers, disappearing into the pulsing crowd before I can say anything.

I turn to Jess and see her sniggering, "Rosie you're not having much luck today; first the beans and now this."

"Yes it's all very amusing. Help me out, will you?"

The sodden material has become sticky so she helps me to pull the jumper off. I have a vest top on underneath that luckily stayed dry. I dump the jumper under my chair.

Aidan quickly returns. His arms and hands are full with 3 bottles of mead and 3 glasses of Firewhiskey. He must have a summer job as a waiter or something.

I start on the mead first. It goes down much easier than the first, and especially talking and joking with Jessie and Aidan I've finished it sooner than I realise. I can feel myself succumbing to the effects of the alcohol and I have to admit it, even if it is just to myself, that I'm having quite a good time.

Aidan runs his hand through his dirty blonde hair to move it out of his eyes. "Down in one?" he asks us both, giving us a half smile.

I look at Jess and she just shrugs, and then all three of us gulp down the amber coloured liquid. It burns my throat and instantly I'm spluttering and coughing. Aidan gets called away by his friends, as Jess laughs and pats me on the back.

"I don't think you should have another one of those," she says.

"No, I _should_ have another one so I get used to it," I reply, standing up. I start to make my way over to the table where all the bottles have been placed.

Walking across the dance floor I somehow end up in the middle of a conga line. I take my chance and duck underneath Ravi Patil's arms quickly. His foot catches my ankle and I trip over and end up on my fours.

"Ow," I complain, pushing myself up off the floor. I rub down the knees of my jeans as Jess emerges from around the edge of the dancing mass of students.

"Are you alright?" she asks, pulling me further away from the dance floor.

"I'm fine," I reply, shrugging it off.

A look of amusement crosses over her face as I start to pour myself and Jess another Fire Whiskey. We both clink our glasses together before swallowing it down in one go again. Once you get used to the burning sensation, it's actually really nice. I start to nod my head along to the music and I'm just about to ask Jess if she wants to have a bit of dance, when Al shouts her name from across the room.

Jess shakes her head and sighs, "more tactic talk. Will you be okay? I won't be long."

I nod my head, "I'll be fine," I say, pouring another drink for myself.

I lean against the cold wall and I just watch the other people dancing and singing along to the music. I'm enjoying feeling tipsy and I'm enjoying the feeling of not worrying about anything. It's like nothing really matters right now; just having a good time. Kerry's definitely having a good time. She's currently grinding her body against a tall sixth year who I think is in Hufflepuff. I take my hair out of the bobble. It falls down in its natural, loose curls. I run a hand through it and push it away from my face.

"On the Fire Whiskey, Weasley?" says a drawling voice. Malfoy has appeared at the drinks table. He takes hold of the half-empty bottle and tops up his own glass. "Didn't expect that from you."

I raise an eyebrow, "well I didn't expect to be having such a good time," I reply, making a gesture with my spare hand.

He smirks, "your tipsy, aren't you?"

"Perhaps a little, teeny bit," I say.

He takes a sip of his drink but doesn't say anything.

"So, where were you this afternoon?" I ask, referring to the lesson he skipped.

He just shrugs. Annoyingly.

A few moments of silence pass between us, in which I can think of nothing to do but just take sips of my drink until I notice it's all disappeared. I put my empty glass down on the table. I probably shouldn't refill it until the woozy feeling has subsided a bit. My fingers and toes are tingling and feel… weird, for lack of a better word. I move my toes around in my shoes, hoping that this will bring back the proper sensation quicker. Suddenly I become aware that I'm falling.

"Oh bloody Merlin," says Malfoy, grabbing hold of me and catching me before I fall to the floor.

"Whoops," I say, clinging onto him. I must have become too eager in wiggling my toes.

He puts me upright; his hands on my shoulders to keep me steady.

"You alright Weasley?" he asks me, looking more amused than concerned.

I shove my hair out of my face and nod. I pat him on the chest, in a gesture that I hope is reassuring. I don't want him to think I'm going to fall over again. Or that I can't handle my drink. I close my eyes and take in a steadying breath, hoping the oxygen will somehow clear my body of the alcohol, and clear my head of its current 'fuzziness'.

I open my eyes. He's looking straight at me with a look on his face, which I can't describe. It transports me straight back to the dream; that _bloody_ dream which has plagued my mind all day. I imagine him leaning in closer, placing his lips onto mine.

NO ROSIE. I shake my head; trying to somehow shake the image away. This is Malfoy. I certainly don't want to think about him kissing me.

"Weasley?" he asks, creasing his forehead.

I become aware of his hand moving from my shoulder and towards my hair. He moves a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. His hand stays there a little longer than it should. Or maybe it doesn't; maybe I'm just imagining it.

"You need to wear your hair down more often. It's annoying," he pauses, "sexy."

He smirks at the effect his comment has on me. I'm too stunned to say anything. Should I be feeling happy that Malfoy has just called my hair sexy? No, of course not. Don't be stupid. It's just the alcohol.

"You need to drink more often," he adds.

I furrow my brow, "you can't tell me what to do," I say.

Instead of retaliating as I expected him to do, he just smirks/half smiles. Obviously finding my drunken state rather entertaining.

I open my mouth to say something else, when Kerry appears by my side. She grabs both my arm and a bottle of fire whiskey and whisks me away without a word. Rather glad that she took control of the situation before I did or said anything stupid, I let her guide me to a free sofa. We both sit down heavily and I wait for the questions to begin. She takes a swig straight from the bottle.

"What was all that about?" she asks, slurring her words. I think she's drunker than I am. She passes me the bottle and waits eagerly for the gossip.

"Nothing," I reply, shrugging my shoulders.

"There was definitely something going on," she says.

"What about you and what's-his-name?" I ask, trying to take her mind off me and Malfoy.

She laughs, "oh now _that_ was nothing," she says. "I can't even remember his name," she admits before giggling.

I'm not exactly sure how much times passes, but soon enough we've managed to finish the entire bottle of Fire Whiskey and the conversation has turned back onto Malfoy and me. The room is swaying around me and we've been talking more loudly and more animated than usual.

"I think," she begins, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and leaning heavily on me, "you like him a little bit. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with it," she adds on quickly, as I begin to interrupt and argue against the statement, "He's ridiculously good looking. He's bad, isn't he? That's why _so_ many girls want him," she finishes, nodding knowingly. It seems those magazines do teach their readers something after all.

"I had a dream about him," I admit. The alcohol units I've consumed have loosened my tongue so I don't care what I'm saying or what the consequences will be.

Kerry's eyes widen and a smile appears on her face. I can tell she's impatient to know more. I lean in and tell her everything.

"Oh Merlin, you need to go and kiss him," she says, excitedly.

She's right. It's the obvious thing to do. He was such a good kisser in the dream. I mean, we're at a party – isn't that what drunk people at parties do? And really, what's the worst thing that can happen?

"I will do then," I say, standing up.

I wobble slightly on my feet, but when I'm steady I look around the room. I spot my target standing with his back towards me, once again at the drinks table. Putting as much concentration as possible into walking, I carefully make my way across the room towards him. This is such a good idea I don't know why I didn't think of it before.

When I reach him, I tap him on the shoulder so he turns around. I close my eyes and take hold of his face between my hands. I crash my lips against his. I can tell he's shocked, but it only takes a second or two for him to fall into the rhythm of it; his hands snake around my waist and rest at the base of my back.

I pull my face away from him, ready to see his smirk. But I don't, because it's not Malfoy. It's Aidan Finnigan.


	10. Chapter 10

**There was a line break in the last chapter that wasn't supposed to be there _. Also, sorry for any mistakes you noticed. I just wanted to get it out there as quick as possible since I'd left you all waiting for a new chapter for so long :). So, chapter 10; back to older Rosie and Scorp -enjoy it lovelies :).  
Peaches xx**

Albus gave exactly the same reason as Scorpius had suggested; that I hadn't asked, so he therefore he didn't tell me the cottage Scorpius and I lived in was so close. I didn't complain or argue against it. I was too busy scrutinising every little bit of the conversation I'd had several days ago with Scorpius. I keep replaying it in my mind, the way he moved so in sync with me, the way he called me "darling".

I can't quite believe that he's turned into someone that seems so friendly, thoughtful and loving, and so… well, so like the type of guy I'd have described if someone asked me what I'd want my future husband to be like. How could that have happened? How could the snobby, arrogant, git who was (quite frankly) a massive pain in the arse during my time at Hogwarts turn into the Scorpius he is now? Maybe when I banged my head all them years ago when I fell down the stairs, it altered my personality and I quite liked the cocky, self-assured, bad boy behaviour that Malfoy always flaunted – perhaps that's how we got together and since then he's just changed.

"Interesting article?" asks Al.

I look up; he's stirring porridge on the hob with his wand and looking down at me, sat at the kitchen table, with an amused look on his face.

"Huh?" I ask.

"You've been staring at that article for the past fifteen minutes," he says.

I look and realise that the 'The Daily Prophet' is still on the same page as it was when I first opened it. The little picture of the journalist, who wrote the article about the recent increase in charges for Scops owl deliveries at The Post Office, is attempting to hide from my gaze and agitatedly wiping his face – trying to remove an invisible blemish. My staring has obviously made him self-conscious.

"I was just thinking about it, that's all. Postal charges going up are an important topic and it's good to know that…" I tail off because he's just raised his eyebrows. "I was thinking about Malfoy."

Albus nods, and goes back to his porridge. I watch him for a bit, and then realise I made myself a cup of tea before I sat down. I take hold of the mug, but I can feel it's already gone tepid. I take a sip anyway.

"Did I tell you he asked me to go back to the cottage?" I ask.

Al reaches up into the cupboard by his head and takes out a bowl, "you did."

"Do you think I should have gone back? I mean, it is my home after all."

He pours his porridge into the bowl, uses his wand to fill the saucepan with hot water with a flick of his wand, and sits down at the table. "It's was up to you," he replies.

"I know that, but-"

"Rosie, when you want to go home, you will do. Stop worrying about it, okay?"

He starts shovelling huge spoonfuls into his mouth. "Ou ave a tter, th ay,"

"What?" I ask, unable to hide my disgust at him speaking with his mouth full.

He swallows. "You have a letter, by the way," he repeats, pointing.

I take hold of the several letters that were in the middle of the table. Flicking through them, I find the one that's addressed to me. Instantly I know it's mum. Her tiny, neat handwriting is so similar to my own. I open it up and read it quickly.

"She's just asking how I am really," I tell him, giving him the basic summary of the two page letter. "Al, what are you doing today?"

"I've got to leave for Quidditch practice in about," he glances at his watch, "5 minutes. Why?"

I shrug, "just wondering". Actually I had been considering asking him to show me where the cottage is, but it seems stupid to ask him to change his plans so he can take me there. I don't really want to ask for directions because I'd feel so utterly stupid just turning up at the door on my own. Scorpius might be busy anyway.

"What about you?" he asks, leaving the kitchen to get his broom from the cupboard.

"Oh, nothing really," I shout after him, messing with the crumbs on the table, which were from my toast. "Actually," I begin, getting up from the table to follow him, "I think I might go home today."

Albus stops putting on his coat mid-way, so he's only got one arm in. "_Home,_ home?" he asks, significantly.

"Home as in, my mum and dads," I reply.

He puts his coat on and grabs the long case he keeps his broomstick in. "Are you sure? You're not going because you're got some stupid notion in your head that you might be getting in the way or outstaying your welcome?"

That's exactly what I had been thinking. "No, of course not. It's just I miss mum and dad… and weirdly Hugo."

"Alright," Al says, slinging the bag over his shoulder, "but feel free coming back when they get too much for you again."

I wait and say bye as he goes off to practice before making my way around the flat, collecting all my things together. I hadn't realised how spread out all my stuff was, usually I'm so neat and tidy and everything has to be in its right place. I grab my bag out of the spare bedroom and shove all my stuff into it; not particularly caring that it's all scrunched up. I can just sort it all out when I get home anyway. It doesn't take long and within half an hour I'm all ready to go.

I walk over to the fireplace and take a handful of powder. It feels gritty and rough in my hand. Actually, Scorpius is probably at work. It is Tuesday, after all… and it is half eleven in the morning, which means he won't be finishing his shift for several hours yet. So theoretically speaking, if I wanted to, I _could_ go to Ivy Cottage and have a quick look around inside whilst he's out. It's not going to do any harm, is it? I'd only stay for an hour or so and then go straight to my mum and dad's house. He wouldn't even know I'd been there.

I shake my head and frown. No, no, don't be stupid. I should just go straight home. Maybe Scorpius doesn't work Tuesdays, so he could be in the cottage having a late breakfast or something and I'd just appear in the fireplace. I could give him a heart attack, and that's not the type of thing a wife should be giving her husband. That'd be awful. I'll just go and see my parents.

I throw the handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. It glitters as it flies threw the air, and as it lands green flames appear. I step into them, totally determined to go to mum and dad's.

* * *

I fall out of the fireplace at Ivy Cottage, still cursing myself under my breath that I changed my mind at the last minute and shouted 'Ivy Cottage' instead. Luckily, a thick, cream coloured carpet is the choice of flooring for this room so I landed softly and hardly made any noise. I get up swiftly, leaving my large bag on the floor; Scorpius isn't in the room. Thank Merlin. Large, squishy sofas and two armchairs (all of which look extremely comfy) are arranged around the room so they're all facing the fire place. It looks like such a cosy room. I can imagine myself snuggled up on the sofa, reading. Then I imagine that rather than being nestled into the corner of the sofa, I'm cuddled up against Scorpius.

Quickly I wipe the image from my mind, feeling angry at myself for allowing that warm, fuzzy feeling to seep into my stomach. The cottage seems quiet. As carefully as I can, I sneak out of the living room. I go through a door into the hallway, and then through another door. I gasp, I can't help it. The kitchen is huge, much bigger than I expected. On the work surface near the sink, there's an empty bowl and a glass with the last dregs of orange juice in. That makes me even more confident he's not in the cottage, because surely that's a sign he had breakfast and had to leave in a hurry so he didn't have time to wash them up.

At the other end of the kitchen, there's a large table. As I make my way over to it, I count the chairs – twelve. I look out of the large window to the simple garden. There's a table and chairs out there, on a small patio area. It's easy to envision sitting out there on a warm, summers evening with a cold glass of that lovely elderflower wine.

I want to see the bedroom. Feeling a bit more confident now, I walk back out into the hallway and go up the stairs. After discovering the bathroom, I find the bedroom. The covers on one side of the bed are slightly scrunched and folded over – clearly that's the side Scorpius sleeps on. The other side, my side, looks neat. I walk over to my side; picking up a hairbrush and a book that are on the bedside table. I hope that they will somehow bring a memory back to me, but they don't.

There's a bookcase in the room. It contains a few titles that I've already read, but a lot I haven't even heard of. The spines of the books look like they've been well-read, so I must have enjoyed them. I run my finger along them, slightly tempted to pull one out so I can take it back to read but he might notice. The view out of the bedroom is looking out to the sea. It's pretty and for several minutes I enjoy watching the sea crashing against the cliffs. We must be pretty lucky to live here.

There are some photographs on the window sill. I pick them up, intrigued. There's one of me and Scorpius on a beach. We must have been there a while because the freckles on my face and shoulders have increased, and we've both got a lovely, golden tan. From the angle of the picture, we took it ourselves. Scorpius has his arm around me and I've got a huge grin on my face. It looks like such an idyllic beach; there doesn't seem to be anyone else on it, as if we found our own, secluded section.

Another picture is an old one. It's one that was taken a year before my accident at Hogwarts and it's of my entire family (both Weasleys and Potters). We're all squashed into the picture. I remember it being taken; it was Christmas day at Grandma and Grandpa Weasley's house. The only remaining photo is in an expensive looking silver frame. It's me and Scorpius again. He's wearing a suit and I'm in a stunning white dress. It's our wedding day. A lump forms in my throat as I notice the smiles we've got on our faces, as we're looking into each other's eyes. It's like we're in our own, little world. I put it back down reluctantly; making sure it's in the exact place it was before I picked it up.

I notice the wardrobe. I walk over to it and open it up. I have _a lot_ of clothes. I flick through them, pulling out some dresses that catch my attention and holding them up against myself. Some of this stuff must have cost quite a bit, and by the looks of it we seem to go to quite a few dinner parties and fancy evening parties. Suddenly I become aware of a cream coloured cover – the type that zips up over expensive and important clothing. I know instantly it's my wedding dress.

Oh Merlin, I really want to try it on. I take it out of the wardrobe and gingerly unzip it. It looks even more gorgeous than it did in the photograph. I run my hand over it; imagine what it would be like to have on. I bet the long skirt of the dress swishes really nicely as I walk.

Abruptly, I hear a dull thud. I freeze in shock. It sounded like it came from the living room, as if someone has just appeared in the house via the Floo network. My heart is beating so fast, I can hear it thudding in my ears – as well as the footsteps of someone walking around downstairs. I zip up the cover and shove the wedding dress back inside the wardrobe. What the hell do I do? Panicking, I start to pace around the room, trying to decide whether to sneak downstairs or jump out of the window.

There are footsteps coming up the stairs. I turn in the room, trying to figure out a hiding place, like under the bed or something. I rush over to the wardrobe, part the clothes and force myself inside. It's a tight squeeze but I'm able to shut the doors. I try to steady my breathing. It's fine. It'll all be okay. I'll just stay here until it's safe to go down to the fireplace and I can leave. He'll never know I've been here.

I let out a small gasp as Scorpius enters the room. Through the small gap in-between the doors, I watch as he walks over to the bed. He takes off his suit jacket and lays it down on the bed, then undoes his tie and the top button of his shirt. He walks over to another door I hadn't even noticed and goes inside. I hear a tap running. We have a bloody ensuite! A few minutes later he comes back out, without his shirt on. It feels like I've been electrocuted - bloody hell he looks good. Feeling slightly like a pervert, I force myself to _not_ look through the gap.

I can hear him rummaging around in a drawer or something. I move my foot so I'm slightly more comfortable since it seems I'm going to be here for a while. I bang my knee against the side. The noises from outside the wardrobe suddenly stop. I stop breathing. Almost excruciatingly slowly, I can hear footsteps coming towards the wardrobe. The beam of light from the gap is blocked as Scorpius stands in front of it.

He opens up the doors and looks down at me, in a cramped and crouched down position. I must look like some sort of contortionist.

"Oh, hi," I say, as if this entire situation is perfectly normal.

He's still topless, but now he's wearing jogging pants instead of his suit trousers. He doesn't say anything.

"You're home earlier than I thought," I say, wanting to break the silence.

He can't help but let his mouth curve into a slight smile. "It's Tuesday, I always finish at lunchtimes on a Tuesday so I usually meet Al after he's finished Quidditch practice and we have a bit of a game."

He steps to the side, allowing me to come out of the wardrobe. Glad to be out, I twist my neck to try and get rid of the dull ache my hiding place has caused. Then I notice my big bag on the floor. I hadn't been able to see it through the small gap. The zip on it's been opened.

I turn around to face him. "You knew I was here?" I ask, feeling slightly outraged as if he purposefully didn't look in the wardrobe because he knew I was in there.

"I knew you'd _been_ here," he replies, not quite able to hide the smile on his face. "I didn't know you were still here and that we were playing hide and seek."

"I wasn't-" I begin.

"You also left a rather large, sooty mark on the carpet downstairs," he interrupts. "Darling," he adds on.

I scowl at him, slightly irritated that I have been found out. Yet he seems to be finding it all quite funny. I walk over to the bed and sit down on the edge of it with a sigh. Scorpius follows and sits down next to me, careful to leave enough space so we're not touching.

"I just wanted to see what it looked like," I explain.

"You could have given me some notice," he replies.

"Yes, well, it was a last minute sort of thing," I tell him.

I glance down and look to the side, making a mental note of his muscular chest and stomach.

"Are you checking me out?" he asks, catching the direction my eyes were looking in.

Quickly I look up at his face. "What? No, of course not." I can feel a blush creeping up onto my cheeks. "You're so bloody big-headed," I tell him, standing up off the bed and walking away from it. I'm desperately hoping the red colour on my cheeks goes down quickly.

"You're free to look," he says, enjoying himself, "you are married to it after all."

"Well I don't want to," I reply, shrugging. "It's not that good. I've seen better."

I hear him laugh, something which takes me by surprise. I hear him standing up, and then I become aware of him standing right behind me.

"I'm not too sure about that," he says. As he speaks I can feel his breath on my ear. It makes my shiver. "You don't look so bad either."

I feel that tingling, warm, sensation again. Damn it. I turn around.

"You're so cocky," I say, just about managing to keep my voice steady.

"You love it though, darling," he replies.

I become aware of how close he's standing to me, and of how his eyes keep gazing down to my lips. I know he's itching to lean down and kiss me. Do I want to him? He brings up his hand, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and leaves his hand nuzzled against my neck. My skin is burning where he's touching. I suppose it wouldn't be too bad to kiss him; to have his hands running over me. He makes up his mind, I can tell. He leans down, slowly.

I pull backwards and away from him.

He looks crestfallen. "I'm sorry," I say, "It's just… I'm sorry."

He forces a smile, "it's fine." I know it isn't. I know he's hurting inside. I _wanted_ to kiss him, so why couldn't I bring myself to do it? It was only a bloody kiss after all; it wasn't like we were about to jump into bed or anything.

"I should go," I say quickly.

I rush over to my bag, shove in a sleeve that's hanging out, and zip it up. Without looking back at him, I head to the bedroom door.

"Stay for dinner," he requests. "Please."


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews for the last chapter; they really made me smile :). Sorry this one is a bit shorter than the last few but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Back to Hogwarts :). **

**Chapter 11 - Peaches :) xx**

* * *

Scorpius Malfoy couldn't sleep. He'd eventually got into bed at 4 o'clock in the morning. He had drunk a lot more than he wanted to and he knew in the morning he was going to regret it. The only upside to the tremendous headache he was surely going to have, was that it was a Saturday and therefore he could stay in bed as long as he wanted to.

He rolled over so he was lying on his side. His stomach felt queasy and unsettled. In hindsight, he probably shouldn't have had those last couple of shots of Firewhiskey. He'd vow to never drink again if he actually thought he could stick to it. His eyes stung and felt gritty; he was so tired. Checking his watch, he saw it was quarter to six. So he'd been just lying in bed for almost two hours now. This was ridiculous.

He sat up, carefully, and pulled apart the curtains of his bed. William Flint was on the floor, asleep. He appeared to have been on his way to his bed, tripped over one of his shoes and considered sleeping on the floor a better option than getting up and into bed. Getting out of his own bed, Scorpius makes his way to the bathroom; being careful so as not to stand on Flint. He certainly wasn't in the mood for his friend to wake up and go over the events of the evening, especially as he knew Flint would ask his opinion and he wasn't quite sure of what that was yet.

Apart from knowing that Aidan Finnigan was a moronic, pathetic git whose kissing technique surely had to be as abysmal as his hairstyle… and his face for that matter.

Once in the bathroom, Scorpius let the cold water run a bit before splashing it over his face. He scowls at his reflection in the mirror, feeling both angry at himself and the entire situation. He didn't know what had gotten into him; but it was evident that he needed to pull himself together. He watches the water running down his face for a moment, before grabbing hold of a towel and drying it off.

Why in the name of Merlin had she kissed _him_? She had seemed so laidback and relaxed last night. She'd let her guard down. He was definite he was onto a sure thing; that a kiss was on the cards that evening… the way she'd been acting around him, the way she had looked at him and glancing at his lips. But then her _stupid_ friend dragged her away before anything could happen. She'd dragged her off into a corner and obviously persuaded her to go and kiss Finnigan. (It was easier, _much_ easier to believe Rosie has been convinced, rather than thinking it had all been her own idea).

He'd been knocked back before, of course he had. However with those all he had received afterwards was a slightly bruised ego and a bit of mocking from his friends. He hadn't really given any of them a second thought. He wasn't looking for anything special, just for a bit of fun. He'd just been looking for a bit of fun last night. How humorous would it have been, knowing he had that hold over her? But she had chosen someone else and although his friends hadn't bullied him about it (his friends didn't even know he'd wanted to kiss her), this feeling he had now was so much more intense than ever before.

It was just a kiss though; it wasn't like they were going to start going out or anything. It was just a stupid, drunken kiss.

He just couldn't explain it. Why did he feel so angry? Angry at Finnigan, angry at her and most of all angry at himself for letting it all get to him. Scorpius walks carefully out of the bathroom and back to bed. He knew that he wasn't going to be able to sleep much, even though every fibre of his body ached with fatigue. He knew that, because every time he closed his eyes the image of Rose Weasley kissing Finnigan, of his hands all over her body, appeared in his mind as if the image had somehow been burnt onto the inside of his eyelids.

* * *

Oh Merlin my head is killing me, and I'm pretty sure the dormitory has never been this bright in the mornings before. I screw up my eyes and bury my head into the pillow. I swear I'm not leaving my bed all day, but then again I do have quite a bit of work to do as I didn't do any yesterday. I let out a groan and roll over to see Kerry coming out of the bathroom, with a slight greenish tinge to her face and looking somewhat like 'death warmed up'. Holding her stomach, she slowly makes her way back to her bed.

"I don't remember a thing about last night," she admits.

I have to say I'm pleased. I mean, obviously it's not good that my friend drank so much she was almost in a comatose state and has now lost her memories, but it does mean that she can't recollect our conversation about Scorpius, and about how I said wanted to kiss him… and how I ended up with Aidan instead.

Aidan's not so bad; he's quite good looking, I suppose. His accent makes most of the girls in school melt on the spot when he speaks to them. But even so, hopefully he won't remember anything about it. He did drink rather a lot too, if I remember correctly. And if he hasn't forgotten, I want him to pretend like it never even happened.

"It's your own fault," says Jess, sounding bright, cheerful and not hung-over at all.

Kerry lets out a long groan and pulls her duvet over her head in response. Jess is already showered and dressed. She finishes putting her hair up into a pony tail and then turns around on the stool she's sat on, so she's facing me.

"Are you still up for going to Hogsmeade?" she asks. "I don't think the binge drinker is."

A muffled reply comes from Kerry. I had completely forgotten about it. I don't particularly feel like it but then we had been planning to go a few weekends ago, but then I had my accident.

"Come on, the fresh air will make you feel better," Jess says, trying to persuade me.

"I suppose I do need to buy some more ink and parchment," I reply. Jess looks hopeful. "Fine, I'll come," I say, getting out of bed.

I get showered and dressed as quickly as I'm able to and soon enough we're heading down to get something quick for breakfast before heading to Hogsmeade, with all the other students who have managed to make it out of bed. I pour some water into a glass and sip it slowly, not wanting to aggravate my stomach any further. Jess puts marmalade onto two pieces of buttered toast and hands me one. I take it, but only manage to nibble the corner slowly. We head towards the Entrance Hall.

"Oh, and I need some more broomstick polish," she adds, before eating her last bit of toast. She'd been telling me about some new broomstick that's due out next month and how if she saved up for several years she might just be able to afford it.

I've only made it halfway through my toast, but at least I'm starting to feel a bit better; I don't feel like I'm going to vomit everywhere now.

It's chilly outside, and the wind whips against us ruthlessly. The students who are already outside button up their coats and shove their hands into their pockets. Regretting not bringing my scarf with me, we both step outside and follow the river of students as they start to head towards the path to the village. I link my arm through Jess's, in an attempt to keep as warm as possible. In just a few hours I can be back in my lovely, warm bed having a nap, before finally getting some much needed work completed.

We head to the Post Office first, so Jess can send off her order form to _'Which Broomstick?' _for a couple of jars of (I have to say, _expensive_) polish. Next it's Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. We spend a bit of time looking at all the new, fancy quills that have just arrived. I make a mental note to hint to mum and dad about getting one for my birthday.

"Where is everyone?" Jess asks, as we step outside.

The streets are rather empty, considering the amount of students that were visiting Hogsmeade today. The shops have all been pretty empty too. I didn't even need to queue for my ink and parchment.

"The Three Broomsticks?" I suggest, thinking that the students were probably drawn to the glow coming from the windows, and the knowledge of how tasty and warming butterbeer is.

"We could go for a quick drink," Jess says.

"I don't think I could handle being in a place that's serving alcohol right now," I reply, "maybe in a few months."

Jess laughs at my frown, and links her arm through mine. "Madam Puddifoot's it is then."

Actually I quite like this idea, and I have enough spare change in my purse for one of her hot chocolates. We manage to find a table for two inside, right next to the window. I give Jess my money and she navigates her way through the small gaps in-between tables to the counter at the front to order our drinks.

When she comes back, she sits down with a sigh and takes off her coat. "She said she'll bring them right over."

I smile, quite happy that I came out now. Jess was right; the fresh air has made me feel better. I like sitting in the cosy café, watching all the people hurrying past as they try and get out of the cold as quick as they can.

A waitress comes over, holding a large tray. She's noisily chewing gum and has an expression on her face which clearly shows she wants to be anywhere than here right now.

"Two 'ot chocolates," she says, putting them down carelessly and spilling both of them.

"Thanks," I say sarcastically, taking my napkin and wiping up the mess.

She just shrugs and saunters off, hitting a second year on the back of the head with the tray as she passes their table. They yelp out in pain, but she just ignores them and goes back behind the counter.

Jess takes a tentative sip of her frothy drink. "Just going to nip to the toilet, and then we can talk about how Kerry got in such a state." She says, as she stands up from her chair.

"And," she adds, leaning down to my ear level as she's passing, "that kiss you had with Finnigan."

I groan. So she knows then; she witnessed the disastrous event. I knew I would come to regret it if I agreed attending that bloody party. I suppose no one can call me 'predictable' anymore, can they? So, there. I suppose Jess knowing means she can tell me who else saw it and, more importantly, who else is likely to remember it?

Thank Merlin it wasn't Flint or someone that like. I think I would have hidden under my duvet for a week if I had done. I might have even left Hogwarts all together. I don't even-

"Did you have a good shopping trip?"

Oh Merlin. Oh… it's Aidan. For a moment I can't quite remember how to speak.

"Yeah, it was alright. A bit cold, you know…" I trail off, lamely.

He smiles. "Can I take a seat?" he asks.

"Sure," I reply, "Jess will be back in a minute though."

He sits down, "this won't take long, I promise. So, how have you been?"

This is bloody awkward. "Well when I woke up this morning I felt like I had a mountain troll attacking my head with a club." I take a sip of my drink. It's lovely. I keep my hands wrapped around the cup to keep them warm, "you?"

He laughs, "pretty much the same."

"Did you have fun, at the party?"

He grins, "Aye, it was good."

"Listen-" I begin, about to apologise for kissing him so suddenly and forcefully.

"Do you want to go for a drink sometime?" he asks, "Next weekend perhaps? We can chat about your drunken attack on me."

"Oh," I say, taken aback. "Er sure, yeah. That's be nice," I tell him, forcing a smile and trying to hide my shock. A drink can't hurt, can it? It's not like he's asking me to be his girlfriend or anything like that. It's probably just a drink as friends anyway.

He smiles and I notice a small dimple appearing on his left cheek. I turn my gaze away. I don't want him to see that I'm embarrassed he mentioned the kiss, but I can already feel the redness creeping onto my cheeks.

I gasp. It's Malfoy, standing right outside the window of Madam Puddifoot's and glaring in through the window at us.

Aidan notices the expression on my face and follows my gaze. "Bloody hell, he doesn't look very happy."

Which I think is, quite frankly, stating the obvious. Malfoy looks from me, to Aidan and then down at the two cups of hot chocolate between us. He thinks we're on a date, doesn't he? But then, why would that make him so mad? Why would he even be interested in what Aidan Finnigan or I get up to?

"What's wrong with him?" Finnigan asks, "is he in pain or something?"

"I have no idea," I reply. Quickly I get up out of my seat. I want to know what his problem is. I want to know what we've done to result in the pair of us being subjected to his famous glare.

As soon as Malfoy sees me getting up, he leaves. He disappears into the crowd of people who are still determined to carry on shopping despite the cold temperatures. I feel confused and panicky… but I'm not sure why. Aidan raises his eyebrows after watching Malfoy storm off.

"I'll probably see you back at the school," he says, noticing that Jess is making her way back to the table.

He says bye and leaves. Jess sits down with a look of confusion on her face.

"You were quite a while," I comment.

"The queue in the toilets was huge. What was all that about?" she asks, "Are you alright? What did Finnigan want?"

She must be assuming that Aidan said something horrible to me concerning last night. I explain it to her; how Aidan just appeared and then asked me out for a drink, how I wasn't quite sure what it meant. Jess excitedly starts to question whether or not it's a date or a 'just as friends' drink. She babbles on and I make sure to nod along in all the right places, but I can't stop thinking about Malfoy and my confusion at his reaction.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry everyone! I realise it's been some time since the last chapter, but I hope this will make up for it :). Thanks again for all the reviews, favourites and followers – they always make me smile when I get a new one :), and inspire me to write more (even if this one is a bit late). So here's chapter 12 – we're back to older Rosie and Scorp. Enjoy and let me know what you think :).**

**Peaches xx**

* * *

I stand still, not quite sure of what to say. On one hand, I really want to. I want to explore the house more. I want to talk and discuss with him the life we have together. I want him to show me things, explain them to me, like souvenirs we've bought during holidays or photographs. I want to see how well (or how awfully) he cooks. Does he cook? Or do we have a house elf?

Quickly I glance around the room; half expecting a house elf to just appear at that moment and start to clear away Malfoy's work suit to take them away to clean. No, don't be stupid, of course we don't have a house elf. I think mum would have a bloody melt-down if I did.

On the other hand however, I want to run away to mum and dad's house. I want mum to make a big bowl of chicken noodle soup for me, and then after I've eaten it I can go and hibernate under my duvet until this whole, memory fiasco blows over. Suddenly I'd wake up, and say "Scorpius _is_ my husband!" and I'll remember everything and things can go back to normal. Perhaps when it does I can expand my vegetable growing repertoire – maybe I'll try parsnips next.

"Rosie?" he asks, pulling me away from my thoughts. "What do you think?"

I hadn't realised how long I'd been standing silent for.

"Well," I begin, trying to bide myself more time to actually make up my mind, "what would we have for dinner?"

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a small smile. "I was just going to have beans on toast, but since I _may_ have company, I _may_ stretch to making spaghetti Bolognese."

I raise my eyebrows. "Aren't I the lucky one?"

He smirks, and again it's not the same smirk as the one he used to have plastered on this face the majority of the time at Hogwarts. It's different; I quite like it. It makes me feel like we share secrets that no one else knows.

"Is that a 'yes'?" he questions, pushing for an answer.

"I… need to use the toilet," I lie, quite lamely.

He points to the door which I saw him going through just a few minutes before. Hastily I walk towards it and close it behind me. I lean on the back at of the door; looking at my cowardly self, reflected in the mirror in front of me. I'm such an idiot. I look down and notice a latch. I lock the door quickly, and then regret because I'm sure he would have heard me doing it. It's not that I don't trust him or anything, it's just… Damn it. Why do I just keep doing things that hurt him? I take a few steps forward and lean on the sink. I look at my reflection, right into my own eyes, and will myself to remember something – _anything_ will do.

I put the toilet lid down and sit on it. With my head in my hands, I think about what Scorpius has just asked me. Okay, so the easiest way of making a decision is to list the pros and cons and then the list with the most is the answer.

So, the pros of staying are that I quite like spaghetti Bolognese. Scorpius will be able to tell me more about our life together. I can have an even better look around the cottage. It will make him happy if I say yes.

The cons of staying are he'll probably ask me difficult and awkward questions, like 'when do you think I'll be moving back into the cottage'. He might ask me to stay over, and it'll make him sad if I say 'no'. He might be absolutely abysmal at making spaghetti Bolognese. He may go in for another kiss, and what if I can't resist him this time? What will happen then? Albus could have told my mum that I left to go home, so she'll be worrying about where I am if I don't get home soon. If I let her know I've stayed here for dinner, then I'll be subjected to a grilling as soon as I arrive home. And I know I'm just going to end up saying or doing something that will upset him.

I let out a long sigh. So that's it then, isn't it? The con list is considerably bigger than the pro list. I guess that's my decision made. I can't stay for dinner, not just yet. It's too soon. I stand up and smooth down my t-shirt. I take a deep breath. I feel nervous, as if I'm about to go and sing onstage or something. I unlock the door and open it quickly. It's better to get this hurt over and done with, like pulling a plaster off, rather than dragging it out.

"Scorpius, I-"

I have no idea where he's gone. I eye the wardrobe suspiciously. Surely he can't be...? No, don't be stupid. I head downstairs and follow the lovely, homely smell of cooking coming from the kitchen. The kitchen's also empty, but on the stove is a large saucepan with mince browning, and a second one filled with spaghetti in boiling water. Habitually I give the mince a quick stir.

Then I notice him, bent over the vines of tomatoes in the green house, which is nestled in the corner of the garden. He's searching through them, looking for the best ones. I walk over to the patio doors that lead out to the garden, so I have a better view of him. Before I know it I've burst into tears and I have absolutely no idea why. Scorpius looks up, suddenly aware that I'm standing there. He smiles for the briefest of moments, before realising I'm crying. His expression instantly shows his concern. He rushes over.

"Rosie, what's the matter?" he asks. He goes to put his hand on my shoulder, or perhaps he went put his arm around me. I'm not sure, because he stopped with his air in mid-air and realised his hands are full of juicy, ripe tomatoes.

I sniff and try my best to stop crying. But I just can't do it. I'm such an idiot. Now would be a perfect time for a giant hole to appear, so the ground can just swallow me up. That way I wouldn't have to look at Scorpius' concerned face, through my bleary eyes. He's probably regretting ever asking me to stay now; wondering what the hell he's got himself into – being married to a blubbering fool, who can't keep a tab on her emotions. Not to even mention the fact I can't bloody remember being married to him.

"Rose," he says gently, pushing me for an answer. "Has something happened? Is it your mum and dad?"

I shake my head. "You looked after my tomatoes for me," I manage to say, between great, big sobs; before once again falling into another bout of uncontrollable bawling.

His forehead creases with confusion. "I don't… would you have preferred it if I had let them all die?" I can see he's trying hard not to laugh. I'm crying about tomatoes for Merlin's sake.

I sniff a few times, trying to compose myself.

"You're just, so lovely. And we live in such a perfect cottage. You seem to care about me so much. I just don't understand why I can't remember anything. I feel so stupid," I say, starting to get angry and frustrated, "why can't I remember that I've got this lovely life?"

I look up at his face, through my tear-stained eyes. He gives me a small smile.

"You will remember, one day," he says.

I shrug, not quite believing that it will ever happen. I mean, there is a chance that I will just never remember, isn't there?

"Now, hold these," he begins, holding out the tomatoes. I do as I'm told. "We need to get your face sorted for dinner, because quite frankly darling, you look like Moaning Myrtle." He starts using the pads of his thumbs to dry the tears on my cheeks and wipe off the mascara that's run. "One must look their best for dinner. You should probably get dressed into some proper dining attire. The servants will be serving our food to us soon."

"Oh, piss off." I say, but I can't help smiling.

He returns the smile and wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me into a hug that's so familiar and comforting. I just want to sink into it, and stay there. After a moment, he leans his head down and presses his lips onto my forehead. It feels so warm and caring, that it makes me feel all fuzzy and tingly inside.

"Can you take those in for me? There should be a bottle of wine in the cupboard, if you want to open it," he says, letting go of me.

I nod and do as he says. He turns around, so his back is facing the patio doors. He lets out a steadying breath and tries his hardest to hold back the tears and ignore the large lump that has formed in his throat. He can still smell the fruity fragrance of shampoo; it's lingering in his nostrils and he hopes to Merlin it'll stay there for just a bit longer.

"Found it," I call from the kitchen, unknowingly pulling Scorpius out of his reverie.

He turns and gives a small smile, successfully hiding his sadness. I take my wand out of my pocket and with a flick the cap of the wine bottle comes off and flies into my hand. It's been magically chilled already, so after a quick search I manage to locate two wine glasses and pour us both a small amount.

Scorpius sets the knife the task of chopping up the tomatoes on its own, whilst he gives his attention to the minced beef in the pan.

"Al said he's got a Quidditch match on Tuesday," I comment, trying to make a natural conversation that I would imagine between man and wife.

"I know. I didn't manage to get to the last one because, well, you'd just had your accident and I didn't want to leave your bedside."

I smile and look down at the wine, as I swirl it around my glass.

"Are you going to go?" I ask him, trying to not blush. I don't even know why I feel nervous. He's my husband for Merlin's sake; I'm allowed to see if we can go to a Quidditch match together.

He turns, smirks, "Why? Do you fancy going to?" he says, able to read me like a bloody book.

"Well, I," I begin, "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, if people don't know my memory's gone and I can't remember a thing then surely they'll think it's a bit weird if I don't accompany my husband to go and watch my cousin playing Quidditch, won't they?" I say, quickly.

"Actually darling, people would think it weird if you _did_ go. You hate Quidditch."

I scoff, "hate's a bit of a strong word. I don't think I would have ever said that."

He raises his eyebrows (rather sexily if I may add), "You said you hated the sport and that everyone who plays it, watches it or enjoys it, are utter morons who have nothing better to do with their time," he replies, nonchalantly.

"Oh," is all I can say, because to be honest it does sound like something I would say.

"But obviously," he continues, "if you can't resist spending more time with me than I suppose it'd be mean not to let you come with me."

I can see him trying to hide his smile as he continues to prepare dinner.

* * *

Scorpius watches his wife eating the dinner, which he cooked for her. She's tied her hair back, to avoid it falling into the rich, tomato sauce. He's glad that she still has some of the same habits of the wife that he had before the accident. Next time, he thinks, he'll have to take her out somewhere special – to their favourite restaurant perhaps, or the pub just down the road. She seemed to enjoy it there when they shared a couple of drinks together, after her shopping trip with Lily. They served food now, although he was slightly unsure of how safe it was; he'd been in there not too long ago and he could have sworn he saw the chicken curry moving about on the plate, as it was served to the man sat next to him.

He took a long sip of the wine, and gazed at her over the rim of the glass. She was busy twirling spaghetti around her fork, and didn't notice that his eyes had been on her for quite some time now. After putting the glass back down, he inconspicuously moved his hand off the table and into his pocket. That's where the letter was, off his parents. He had received it the day before and ever since had been wondering how the hell he was going to get out of it.

But now, watching her eating and enjoying being in his company, perhaps it wouldn't be the utter disaster he'd predicted it would be. He still couldn't think of an excuse not to accept the invitation – nothing seemed like a good enough explanation. So maybe, if he could think of a good way to put it (and if he asked her at just the right time) she'd say yes; she'd agree to go with him and pretend.

When would be the best time to ask her? Now, during dinner? Later on? Maybe during the Quidditch match?

She picks up the wine bottle and tops up her glass, and then his too. He smiles at her and she returns it, before tucking into her food again.

Yes, he would ask her, but perhaps not tonight. He didn't want to wreck it or scare her off. He placed his hand back onto the table and tried to act as if he didn't have anything playing on his mind.

The letter was off his parents, asking if (since Rose was now out of hospital, and had been for quite a while) would they like to attend the small "get-together" they were hosting next week. There was no doubt they would be expected to stay over too, in the same room as they always did… in the same double bed. They didn't know Rosie has lost her memory. He hadn't been able to tell them.

* * *

"That was really nice," I tell him, starting to clear away the plates after we have both finished.

He shakes his head, "I'll do it afterwards, and thank you."

So, what do I do now? How long should I stay for, or perhaps more importantly, how long will he be _expecting_ me to stay for? I take a quick sip of my wine, finishing off the rest of it that's in my glass.

"I should probably get going," I say, pushing my chair back as I stand up.

"Of course," he says, standing up too.

He seems just as awkward as I do. It feels a bit like we're on a first date, but obviously _slightly_ more… weird. He walks me through to the cosy living room, which is probably my favourite room. I see my bag has been placed onto the sofa; Scorpius must have brought it down before. He picks it up and hands it to me. I put my arm through the large handle, and rest it on my shoulder.

"So…" I say.

"So," he copies, smiling. "It was nice to see you today. A heart-attack inducing surprise of course, but it was nice."

I nod, "sorry about just turning up," I say.

"It's your home; you can just turn up whenever you want. You can stay here whenever you want to."

"Scorpius," I begin, wincing.

But he shakes his head. "I'm not suggesting or asking you to stay over; I'm just saying that you can do – whenever."

Will I ever be ready to stay over? I mean, what if I never remember our relationship or getting married to him? We'd have to build up our relationship from scratch and who knows how long that'll take – that's if it would even work. He's also going to be several, giant steps ahead of me - all the time, I'll never catch up to him. He'll be thinking of me as his wife, whilst I'm thinking of him as my boyfriend. A doubt seeps into my mind, as to the possibility of it actually all working out. Whether if, should my memory never return, we should just call it a day.

I force a smile. I don't want him to know what I'm thinking. "I guess I'll see you at the Quidditch match then, probably."

"I hope you do come," he says. Then there's a pause between us. "Goodbye Rosie."

There's an awkward moment. I know he's wondering whether to lean down and kiss me. Tenderly, he strokes my hair and pushes it behind my ear. Then he leans towards me and gently places a kiss on my cheek.

"Bye," I say, when he's standing up straight again.

Quickly I grab a handful of Floo powder and throw it into the fireplace, before stepping into the flames. I don't look back at him. I don't want to. I don't want to see his face as I leave.

The sickening, spinning feeling suddenly takes over and before I know it, I'm staggering out of the fireplace at home. The house is quiet. No one's home, _thank Merlin_. I don't think that right now I'd be able to cope with an interrogation about where I had been, and what had happened at the cottage. I let out a long sigh, and I can feel myself relaxing once again. I head up the stairs towards the bathroom, placing my bag into my bedroom on the way up.

A hot, soothing bath – that's just what I need; a chance to try and sort everything in my head out before talking to mum and dad. I need to decide whether or not to carry on getting to know Scorpius, or just to not see him again unless my memory comes back. If it doesn't, am I even ready to be married? What if it doesn't come back and it turns out that I don't want to be married to him? It's just going to hurt him even more, if this relationship-thing continues but then I decide I don't want to be with him... rather than just stopping the whole thing now.

I wish I would stop changing my mind. One minute I want to see more of him and the next I'm just not sure if I do. Do I like Scorpius in 'that way'? Or do I just like the idea of having someone so devoted and in love with me?

I just wish someone would tell me what to do.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello again! I'm really going to try and get back into writing more; I know I've been completely rubbish lately at updating XD. A big thank you again for the reviews, etc :). I hope you all enjoy this one and let me know you think :).  
- Peaches xx**

* * *

I'm pretty sure that no one is able to see me behind the mountain of books I have surrounding me in the library, to help finish writing off my Transfiguration essay on the Principles of Re-Materialisation. In fact, Madam Pince has come over to the table several times already, muttering about how students never put the books back after they've finished using them, only to spot me still sitting there.

I manage to squeeze the last few lines onto the final sheet of parchment (thank Merlin I didn't need to use another one – it's longer than she asked for already). I roll it up and carefully put it in my bag, before heaving the numerous amounts of books back to the shelf from where they came from. Madam Pince narrows her beady eyes, and watches me suspiciously. I've convinced she'll check that I've put them all back in exactly the right place after I've left. It's as if she thinks students are plotting the demise of the library, and book by book we're going to put them all in the wrong order.

I start to make my way outside, to Greenhouse Three to check on the mandrake that we're growing for the group Herbology project – Malfoy has done absolutely nothing for it since the party. Quentin suggested going in search of him again, like he did the last time we met up in the library but I just convinced him to let it slide. To be honest, Malfoy was clearly in a ridiculously childish mood with me and I can't really be bothered dealing with him right now. So he can go back to his snobby, arrogant ways and I'll just go back to despising him in private.

As I walk through the big, front doors of the castle, I watch some of the third years leaving the Greenhouse. Obviously they've just had their first Mandrake lesson. I note two of them have left on their earmuffs by mistake – or perhaps it was some sort of fashion statement?

"Good afternoon, Rosie," says Professor Longbottom cheerily, as he spots me walking across the grass. "Come to check on the mandrake?"

"If that's still alright with you?" I ask, stopping and standing next to him for a chat.

"Of course. There's no more lessons in here today; just make sure you leave it in the same way you find it," he says. He's rather protective of his greenhouses.

I let out an exasperated sigh, "Malfoy left it in a mess last time he checked on the mandrake, didn't he?"

Longbottom forces a smile, trying to show he wasn't really bothered, but I can tell it annoyed him quite a bit.

"I don't think Malfoy will be coming here anytime soon so you've got nothing to worry about. He appears to have given up on the project completely."

"I'll speak to him about it" he says, but I shake my head.

"I'd rather just leave it. If he wants to be a massively immature, egotistical, idiotic git then let him," I seethe.

Longbottom raises his eyebrows and I wince. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest move to say all that in front of a teacher. But his face just crumples into a sympathetic smile.

"Good luck with the project, I'm sure you and Quentin will do great – and let me know if he continues to not pull his weight," he adds, as he walks past me. "Matthew, ear muffs!" he shouts, after the third year pupil who is sporting a rather fetching pale yellow pair.

I walk into the humid greenhouse and close the door behind me; completely shutting out the noise from outside. Our mandrake is on a shelf at the back. I dump my schoolbag on the large, wooden table. I carry the mandrake to the table, and after checking the label we attached to it ("_Reaching adolescent – Dragon dung"_), I 'wingardium leviosa' the large sack of dung towards me and place it at my feet.

I furrow my brow in disgust. I'm attempting to find the cleanest pair of earmuffs I can find. Finally I settle on a blue pair I find near the bottom of the box. I hear a knock at the door, and the easily distinguishable lilt of Finnigan.

"Good afternoon," he says, "shouldn't you be lounging in the common room with all the other sixth years that have a free period?"

I smile; "some of us have work to do," I say.

He nods, and walks in without being invited – not that I particularly mind, of course, but I'm slightly worried that he's going to bring up the 'going for a drink'… thing, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Heck, I don't even know _what_ it is; a friendly drink, a date?

"I think that party is the first time I've seen you without a book in your hand and actually having some fun," he says, grinning quite cheekily.

I have to stop myself from going into a rant about how books _are_ fun. I've already tried arguing that point with Kerry and I never get very far. "I have fun," I say.

He raises his eyebrows sceptically. To be fair, I am using a trowel to shovel dragon dung into a bigger pot for a mandrake as I claim this point. _Although_ I am at school to learn, not to have fun – I've heard mum pointing this detail out to Hugo several times.

"Come for a drink with me now then," he says; once again giving that cheeky grin.

"One," I begin, "I've got this to finish off and write up some notes about it. Two," I continue, as Aidan opens his mouth to say something, "we're only allowed into Hogsmeade on designated weekends."

"So?" he replies.

"So, I don't break rules," I tell him.

"Ah," he says, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trousers, "so attending a party in a common room that wasn't your own, being out of bed out of hours, drinking alcohol on the school premises-"

"Was a mistake," I say, cutting him off quickly before he can even mention the kiss. I try to hide the fact that the corners of my mouth are turning up into a small smile by looking down and hiding behind a curtain of my hair. "A big, silly mistake; a mistake which I definitely never be making again, and-"

This time it's my turn to be cut off. _Why in the name of all things magical was Scorpius Malfoy standing outside? _

Aidan follows my gaze. We both watch as Malfoy opens the door, letting in a blast of the cold, harsh wind.

The expression on his face is a mixture of confusion, anger and loathing all rolled into one.

"What are you doing in here?" he asks, snapping his gaze towards me – but not before giving Aidan one of his 'death glare' looks.

"Having a ballet lesson with a mountain troll," I reply, "you?"

He ignores the sarcasm. "It's my day on the rota to do the mandrake," he says.

I narrow my eyes. "No it's not. Not that you've been helping out anyway. I'm surprised you've not thrown it away."

His expression tells me I'm correct. There are probably just the cinders of it remaining in the Slytherin common room fireplace.

He pauses for a moment. "I've been busy".

Oh yeah, of course he has. "Bedding Estelle Zabini, no doubt," I snap, flinging the dung into the new pot with such force that quite a bit ends up on the table.

Where the hell did that come from? It's not like I care who he's been… well, you know. I sense both Aidan and Malfoy staring at me and try and calm myself down.

I look up at him, but his smirk only increases my fury.

"Jealous Weasley?" he asks.

"Of course not. Why would I care?" I say quickly. I turn to Aidan, "why would I be jealous? I'm not jealous."

I'm sure I'm doing a really amazing job of convincing them.

"I…" Aidan begins, clearly unsure of what to say and unsure of the somewhat weird situation that's unravelling before his eyes.

Malfoy nods, but the expression on his face shows he clearly doesn't believe me. I feel like screaming it; but I reckon that'd just convince him even more that I am envious - which I'm not, obviously.

"Oh just sod off, Malfoy. I've got work to do," I snap, and busy myself with the task at hand, that is, cleaning up the mess I've just made.

"It's my day on the rota, I'm staying," he replies, defiantly. "Why's he here?" he asks.

I assume he means Aidan even though he doesn't even acknowledge him.

"_Aidan_ is here, because…" but then I frown and turn to look at him. Why was Aidan here again?

"I came to ask Rosie if we were still going to go on a date soon," he says, confidently looking at Malfoy. Aidan doesn't appear intimidated by him, something which takes me and (quite obviously although he tries to hide it) Malfoy by surprise.

Malfoy's expression changes, hiding his astonishment as quickly as it appeared on his face. The way Malfoy and Aidan are looking at each other, I'm reminded on two male lions both after the same bit of meat. I can imagine them circling each other, before simultaneously going in for the attack – roaring and everything.

"And I said yes," I add on, quickly. As much as it was amusing to imagine it, I don't want an actual fight to break out.

They turn to look at me. "You did?" they both say, although they couldn't have said it anymore differently. Aidan sounded happy and pleased; Malfoy, well… he sounded rather like he wanted to hex someone.

"Yes," I reply. Ignoring Malfoy and giving my full attention to Aidan. "Next Hogsmeade trip?"

"Absolutely," he says.

There. I'm not jealous in the slightest about Malfoy and Zabini. Why would I be when I'm going on a date with Aidan, whom is a much nicer person than Malfoy could ever be?

Malfoy glares. "Alright, enough of this lovey-dovey shit. Can you leave now so Weasley and I can get on with the project?" he says. He wasn't asking Aidan; he was telling him.

"Aidan can-" I begin, but Aidan holds up his hand.

"It's fine, Rose. I was leaving anyway," he states. He gives me a smile before walking past Malfoy (not without knocking into him with his shoulder on the way past) and out of the door.

I wait until the door's closed before starting on Malfoy. "What was all that about?" I ask; one hand on my hip and a trowel in the other.

"It's _our_ project, which _we_ are working on. It's got nothing to do with him."

"Which _I_ am working on Malfoy. _Me_. And I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own thanks, so if you could just please leave as well."

"No," he replies, walking towards me. "You've got the days wrong Weasley. It's my day on the rota. I'm staying."

I can feel my blood pressure rising. I know it's my day but I can't be bothered with the argument. "Fine," I say through gritted teeth, "but I'm staying too. You'll probably plant the mandrake in upside or something."

He ignores my comment and pulls on some gloves. "I'll just do whatever you tell me."

Leave me alone then, I feel like shouting at him. Instead I take a few calming breaths. I can do this, I can be an adult. I can work with Malfoy.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch him pulling something out of my bag. "What do you think you're doing?" I snap.

"You've finished the essay on the Principles of Re-Materialisation for Transfiguration already?" he asks, giving it a quick read over.

I whip it out of his hands. "You're not copying it," I say, stuffing it back into my bag and zipping it closed.

"Why would I want to be a pathetic know-it-all anyway?" he asks, sneering at me.

I purse my lips. "We need to remove this mandrake and replant it into this pot," I begin, putting on my earmuffs and arranging them so they cover my ears properly.

I hear a faint, wailing noise and a dull thud. I whip around quickly. Malfoy is holding onto his ears, staggering around. Thank Merlin he didn't faint. I grab a pair of earmuffs and put them onto his head. He moves his hands so they're holding them down onto his ears. I pick the mandrake up off the floor and as hastily as I can, I replant it into the new, bigger pot. As soon as it's covered with the dung, the noise stops.

I let out a sigh of relief and pull my earmuffs off. Malfoy does the same. Then I turn on him.

"Why didn't you put them on first? You're a bloody sixth year, surely you know…" but I trail off. Malfoy is shaking his head and pointing to his ears.

I frown, "have you gone deaf?" I ask, before realising how stupid the question was.

"I can't hear you," he almost shouts, pointing to his ears again, "At all."

I nod, and then hold up the earmuffs and point to them. I think I get my point across.

Malfoy just shrugs, "I didn't think it was old enough to make me faint," he shouts again, obviously oblivious to how loud he's making his voice.

Yes but it _is_ bloody old enough so its cry can deafen you. He's lucky his eardrums didn't burst.

"You really are a big-headed git, aren't you?" I say. Thinking he can't be hurt by a mandrake, honestly.

He creases his forehead in confusion.

"And in case you didn't know or I haven't told you already, Scorpius really is a ridiculous name," I tell him.

"What?" he shouts.

I can't help but smile. This is actually quite fun. I can tell him anything I want to, anything at all. I can say anything about him that I want to.

"You know you saunter around the school, thinking everyone is impressed by you but actually most people just think you're pathetic – except Zabini and co., of course."

He narrows his eyes. "I hope you're not insulting me Weasley."

"Oh no, of course not Malfoy. By the way did I mention that I think you're a-" but I stop as I turn around to look at him.

He doesn't have the arrogant expression on his face like he usually does. He looks… worried? I suppose would be too if I had suddenly gone deaf. I sigh.

"Sorry," I say, making sure he can read my lips so he knows what I'm saying.

"For what?" he asks loudly, "letting my witness Finnigan asking you out? Or was it for me having to watch you and him playing tonsil tennis at that party?"

I glare at him, but decide he's not worth it. I begin to clear away all the stuff I have used. I notice a bit of folded up paper on the floor. It must have fallen out of my bag when Malfoy pulled out my homework. I unzip my bag and put it inside.

"You know," I begin, "I had planned on kissing you at that party, not Aidan. I thought Aidan was you, from behind. The amount of alcohol I'd consumed and the way you looked that night… the way you acted towards me – not to mention a dream I'd had a few nights before, made me think it was a good idea." I let out a long sigh, and tried to push the way he'd made me feel that night out of my mind; the way my stomach had tingled and twisted when I looked at him. I continue not looking at him as I speak; pretending to be busy by putting the mandrake back on the shelf and taking my time doing it.

"But honestly, the way you're acting now…" I shake my head and turn around. "I'd glad Aidan asked me out," I say – once again speaking slowly and clearly so he can read my lips – "Go to the hospital wing Malfoy. They'll sort your ear out."

I storm out of the greenhouse and have to force myself not to slam the door shut behind me.

* * *

The door of the library opens. I glance up from writing up the notes about the mandrake and see Jess walking in. She spots me and walks over.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asks.

I look at my watch and realise it's dinnertime. "I'm just going to finish this off. I'll be there in a bit".

"Are you alright?" she asks, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

"Fine," I lie, "why?"

She just arches an eyebrow at me.

"It's Malfoy," I begin.

"Oh what's he done this time?" she says, sighing.

"Well I was in the greenhouse, about to replant the mandrake for our herbology project and Aidan walked in-"

"Finnigan?" she asks, a look of excitement appearing on her face. "And what did he want?"

"Well," I can feel myself blushing bright red. "He just wanted to arrange our drink date thing…"

She grins at me. "Aidan's a nice guy," she says, nodding her head. "But I'm not quite sure where Malfoy comes into it…?" she asks, frowning.

"He came in and, well, you know what he's like." I lean back in my chair.

Jess takes hold of the diary I've been writing our notes in for the project and starts looking through it. I feel a little twinge of pride as she looks quite impressed.

"That's mostly mine and Quentin's work. Malfoy's done sod all," I mutter.

She looks up at me, with a _'what did you expect?' _expression on her face.

"He was there with you today though? Did he help?"

"If you call helping deafening yourself by pulling the mandrake out of the soil before putting his earmuffs on then yeah, he was a massive help."

She furrows her brow and flicks back to the front of the book. "But, it's not old enough for its cry to deafen people yet," she says.

I feel my stomach drop. "What?" I almost yell. "It is. Malfoy couldn't hear a word I was saying."

Jess laughs, "well he must have been just joking around."

She reaches forward and flicks through the book about mandrakes I have on the table. She stops when she reaches a page showing the life cycle of the mandrake. "See," she says, pointing to it, "a mandrake has got to be nearly a couple of months old before the scream can deafen a human. It's loud and it would have hurt his ears but it wouldn't have deafened him".

I stare, frozen, at the page. No. No, this cannot be happening. My heart starts beating faster; it feels like it's pounding against my ribcage. I pull the book closer to me and re-read the words again, closely; lingering over each word and hoping that I'll realise Jess has got it all wrong.

But she hasn't.

"He said…"

Jess smiles, "Well what do you know, Malfoy's a practical joker."

I force out a half laugh, trying to pretend everything's okay. I start remembering exactly what I said to him.

_You know, I had planned on kissing you at that party. _

Oh Merlin.

"Oh come on, you couldn't have said anything to him that was that bad," she says, "he's probably heard it all before from you anyway, the amount of times you two have argued and sniped at each other."

"Yeah," I say, trying to sound nonchalant.

…_the way you looked that night… the way you acted towards me – not to mention a dream I'd had a few nights before… _

The ground needs to swallow me up, now.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :)**

**- Peaches xx**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry everyone! I realise it's been a ridiculously long time since the last chapter. I made this one longer to make up for me being so rubbish at updating :). Hope you all enjoy it, and don't forget to let me know what you think of it :). Back to older Rosie and Scorpius now...  
- Peaches, xx**

* * *

So, after many countless hours thinking everything over, a few discussions with mum, several letters to and from Kerry and Jess (in which one of them Kerry suggested I should just _"sleep with him and get it over with – then you'll know if there's chemistry there"_) and unhelpful comments from Hugo… I still have absolutely no idea what I'm going to do.

I let out a long sigh, and Lily Potter glances over.

"Just stop thinking about everything that's going on in your head and just have fun today, alright?" she says.

"I'm trying but it's a bit bloody hard when you've got amnesia and you're still trying to work your life out," I reply.

Slowly, we're trudging up the hill with the rest of the Quidditch fans heading towards the stadium. Already the crowd in the stadium can be heard singing and chanting for their favourite team, even though the match isn't due to start for another half an hour. The wind is blowing bitterly against us, and secretly I'm wishing that I had bought a Puddlemere United scarf off the old man near the entrance of the narrow path that leads to the stadium.

Although obviously I'd never admit that to anyone. Instead I do up the top button of my coat and stuff my hands even further into my pockets. Lily unexpectedly links her arm through mine and I'm grateful for the extra warmth.

Lily guides me towards one of the queues into the stadium. She unlinks her arm and rubs her hands together. I take a quick glance around.

"He'll be here," Lily says.

"What? Who?" I reply quickly, turning back to face her and trying my best not to look guilty.

"Scorp," she says, knowingly, "he hardly ever misses a match."

"I wasn't-" I begin, but she gives me a look that tells me any sort of argument would be pointless and futile. I purse my lips together. "Anyway, how long do these matches of Al's usually last for?"

"Well, it depends on who they're playing," Lily replies, zipping her coat up as far as it will go. "Usually, if the match is going on for longer than four hours then I leave".

My wide eyes and expression clearly show my horror at having to stand in the cold and wind for that amount of time. She laughs and just shakes her head.

"We can leave whenever you want to," she adds, "although we're staying for _at least_ an hour."

"Then it's not leaving when I want to, is it?" I mutter.

"Oh, shut up," she replies, laughing, pushing me gently on the back as the queue in front of us moves forward several paces.

The crowd have started singing a new song now. I can tell this from the change of tune, however I have absolutely no idea what any of the lyrics are. The words are just muddling all together, as people sing (if you can actually call it singing) at slightly different speeds.

There are so many people walking around, trying to get themselves into the correct queue that there's no point in even attempting to look out for Scorpius. Not that I am looking out for him, obviously.

Eventually we reach the front of the queue and Lily reveals two tickets she was keeping in her pocket and shows them to the man stood at the entrance. He gives us both a smile, and nods us through, pointing towards the stairs on the left. I follow Lily, as I have absolutely no idea where we're heading. She seems to know the way and keeps climbing up several sets of stairs, walks down the corridor for a bit, and then climbs another set.

At the top, I let out a long breath.

"Is it much further? The game will have finished by the time we get there at this rate," I say, trying to calm my heaving chest.

"We're just through here," she says.

Lily is standing in front of a door, with a portrait of a man painted onto it. She shows him the tickets, and after reading them, he leans back in his plush armchair and gives us both a grin.

"Welcome Miss Potter and Mrs Weasley," he says, as the door swings open, "Enjoy the game".

I walk inside and my mind is blown away. We have our own little room with comfy armchairs and sofas, and a large balcony with seats on that looks out over the pitch. I follow Lily across the room and over to the balcony and step outside. Not that I have been to many Quidditch matches, but I'd say we have the best view.

Looking around the crowd, I can see people wearing t-shirts and scarfs, which support their team. There's large banners with player's names on – and it somewhat surprises me to see one that flashes with "MARRY ME ALBUS!" with a big, red heart next to it, which keeps exploding little paper hearts every now and then.

"Are you sure we have the right seats?" I ask, still not quite believing it.

"Having a family member as a team player has its advantages, you know," Lily replies, grinning.

She heads back inside and closes the door over slightly, to keep out the cold and wind whilst we wait for the game to start. We both pour ourselves a drink and settle down on one of the sofas.

Suddenly, I hear the door clicking open. My heart stops, and my breath catches in my chest. I can feel a deep red colour rising up my neck and onto my cheeks. I try to act natural and take a sip of my drink, but I notice my hand is shaking slightly.

Damn it. Why does he have to have this effect on me?

I force myself to turn around and look over my shoulder casually, as if I'm not particularly bothered who's just come in. I prepare myself to say "Oh, hi Scorpius," as blasé as I can manage.

But I jerk as if the quaffle just flew in through the door and smacked me on the head. It's not Scorpius. A short man with a rounded belly and a beard enters, along with what I assume is the rest of his family. They all give us a little wave and say 'hi' to us.

A woman, who I figure is his wife, scurries over to me and places her hand on my shoulder. I look at her, completely baffled as to who the hell she is. She looks at me, with a concerned and friendly expression on her face.

"Rose, how are you feeling? We heard about your accident. We were devastated," she says.

"I'm good now thanks," I reply, nodding. I know she doesn't know anything about me losing my memory. Merlin, this is awkward. I have no idea what to say to her at all.

"That's excellent news," she replies, pulling me into a brief, tight hug.

I smile, although I'm feeling quite uncomfortable about it all.

"How are you?" I ask, when she pulls away.

"Oh fine, fine," she says, smoothing down her short brown hair.

"Tabitha," the short man calls to his wife, gesturing for her to go over to where he is stood, in the corner of the room by the drinks, "Oh hello Rose, how are you? After your accident?" he says, just noticing me.

I open my mouth to answer, but I'm cut off.

"Well that's exactly what I was just finding out Charles," she replies, huffily.

When she's out of ear shot and back with her family, I let out a sigh of relief.

Lily lets out a giggle, "probably should have warned you about them," she says. "They're the Mulgrews. Their son is also on the team too. Beater," she says quietly so they can't hear us.

I nod. "Are there others too?"

"Do you mean other players' families?" she asks, "yeah, I'll tell you who they are as they enter. You'll be fine, honestly. Once the game starts up, as long as you're stood out on the balcony, not many people will start a conversation with you."

"Right," I say. Merlin this losing your memory thing is hard – especially when no one actually knows you have it.

After the Morgan's, Campbell's and Lang's have all arrived, the game eventually starts (after a slightly uneasy conversation with Clarissa Campbell, who wanted to discuss what exactly happened with Randall after she left the party early). I stumbled through the conversation and eventually Lily saved me by calling me over to the balcony.

"Do we all have parties together?" I ask, gesturing to everyone in the room.

"Yeah, occasionally. If the team has had a really good win or something. Why?"

"Clarissa Campbell was asking about it that's all. And, she mentioned some guy called Randall?" I say, furrowing my forehead.

Lily bursts out laughing, and can't talk for at least a few minutes without falling back into another set of giggles.

"Oh, Rosie, you really don't want to know," she says, "be thankful for the amnesia in this case."

"No, you have to tell me," I say, feeling like a teenager who the last to find out the latest piece of hot gossip that's making its way around the school.

Lily shakes her head, "let's just say Scorpius can be quite the jealous type at times and poor Randall won't be doing anything like it again – unless of course he wants to stay another night in St. Mungo's."

"Lily! You have to-" but I'm drowned out as the crowd starts cheering madly. A Puddlemere player has just scored, and I realise there's no point trying to have a conversation now.

The Quidditch match soon gets going. Twenty minutes have gone by and already the score is 50-30 to Puddlemere United and a player from the other team has been punished for committing a foul. Scorpius is still not here. Not that's I've been looking out for him or anything.

A flash of blonde hair from the room catches my eye, and has me holding my breath. I franticly move my head left and right, so I can get a clear view of who it is. The person stood behind me, who's blocking my view gives me a weird expression, but moves to get a better look at the match. I realise that the blond hair is not him; it's just Clarissa going to get another drink.

I frown and curse myself for being stupid. It's not like I can actually remember being in a relationship with him, is it? So Merlin knows why I'm acting like some loved-up teenager. Honestly, it's pathetic. I'm quite glad Lily hasn't noticed how much I'm turning around and searching the room. She's too enthralled in the game to notice anything else.

I should just be concentrating on the game anyway. That's what I'm here for after all. I give a quick search of the pitch, trying to distinguish Al from the other players (which are all just basically blurs of colour). Lily suddenly grabs my arm and starts jumping up and down.

"Al's seen the snitch," she squeals, pointing to the far left of the pitch towards a blurred shape that's shooting towards the ground.

Bloody hell, he's going to crash straight into the ground. I can't watch. I hide my eyes with my hand. The crowd around me groans. I quickly uncover my eyes and instantly look to the ground, expecting to see Al sprawled there, limbs all sticking out at odd angles.

"What? What happened?" I ask Lily.

She sighs, "The other seeker got in his way so Al had to quickly turn left to avoid crashing into him. He's lost the snitch now."

Then it happens.

I feel a pair of warm hands gliding around my waist, and pulling me close, into a hug from behind.

I know it's him, straight away.

Those tingles and bolts of lightning start low, in my stomach. I can't help the grin that appears on my face. He leans down and kisses me on the cheek. The tingling sensation starts to slowly creep up my spine.

"Hello darling," he says, loud enough for the people close to us to hear. They give us a look which says '_look how cute and loved up they are_'. If only they knew the truth. I turn around and look up at him, giving him a smile.

"Do you want to get a drink?" he asks.

I nod, and then turn to let Lily know, but I realise there's no point. She's busy jumping up and down and screaming "GET THE QUAFFLE, CAMPBALL YOU COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT!", much to the dismay of Clarissa, who's just walked back out onto the balcony.

Scorpius takes my hand and leads me back inside the room. No one else is in here. He closes the door behind us, blocking out the sounds from the screaming crowds, and makes his way over to the drinks.

"Sorry, about that," he says, hastily, looking concerned.

For a moment I have no idea what he's apologising for, before realising it must be for the way he greeted me.

"Oh, it's fine," I say, smiling. This makes him happy, but then I add "I remembered we had to pretend my memory was still intact", and he looks a bit wounded. Merlin, I can be so stupid sometimes.

I want to tell him that even if we weren't pretending I wouldn't have minded; that it felt completely natural and just, well… right. But somehow I just can't find the words. I clear my throat instead. He hands me a drink, and then pours one for himself.

"So," I begin, after a few moments of silence, "how was work?"

He smiles. "Nice to hear you playing the wife duty, but there's no need. No one can hear us in here," he says, gesturing to the balcony.

"Oh, I know. I was just wondering," I say, "genuinely."

His mouth pulls into a smile at his. He takes a seat on one of the chairs by the table. I follow his lead and sit on the chair beside him.

"Well, darling," he begins, looking at me intensely with those lovely grey eyes of his, sending shivers through my whole body, "work was fine. I had a meeting this afternoon which is why I'm so late. How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, alright. Hugo's being an absolute pain but there's nothing new there," remembering with frustration the loud bang that came from his room, which woke me up at 6am this morning.

"I've missed you," he says suddenly.

I give him a small smile. "I've missed you too," I say quietly, and to my surprise, it's the complete truth. I have missed him.

"Listen, Rosie-," he begins, in a tone of voice which tells me he's going to say something which he knows I'm not going to like.

"Scorp!" says Lily, opening the door of the balcony and letting in a blast of sound before she closes it again. "I didn't realise you were here."

She walks over to the table, and to my surprise, Scorpius stands up and greets her by kissing her on the cheek. She shakes her head, and pulls him into a hug instead. Like he's a family member she hasn't seen in ages… well, I suppose that's exactly what he is.

"I haven't seen you in so long, how are you?" she asks, grinning.

He nods, "good, you?"

Lily looks from him, to me and back to him again. "Oh Merlin, I've just interrupted something haven't I?"

"No, it's fine," says Scorpius. Is that relief on his face? Relief that he doesn't have to tell me whatever it is for a few more minutes.

"I'll go back and watch the game, I don't want to miss anything anyway," Lily says quickly, starting to head back towards the door.

Another blast of noise; the door has been opened again. This time, most of the people are coming back inside, chatting and laughing with each other.

"Half time," says Lily, more to me than anyone else.

I nod. Silently wishing everyone would just get back out onto the bloody balcony and just stay there until Scorpius has told me whatever he needs to. I hide my annoyance and force myself to smile sweetly.

Lily starts talking to a young woman who introduced herself to me before, but I've completely forgotten what her name is. I turn to Scorpius, and lean close to him.

"What were you going to say?" I ask, quietly.

He shakes his head, "Doesn't matter now," he replies. "We need to discuss it properly and we can't really do that here. It can wait until the match has finished."

No it can't. There is no way I am waiting until the match is over. Who knows how long it's going to go on for? I need to know, now.

"Actually, I was just thinking about leaving anyway." I say.

"Oh," he replies, looking saddened.

"We could leave together. I know you've only just got here, but-"

"Lily, we're going," he says, cutting me off.

It takes an unbelievable amount of time to say our goodbyes to everyone, and make promises of how we should all get together soon so we can all have a proper catch up. I swear it takes about forty minutes, but after checking my watch as we exit the room, I realise it's only been just over five. I need to calm down.

Excruciatingly, Scorpius is silent as we both make our way down all the flights of stairs. He takes hold of my hand as soon as we have left the stadium. The man on the door, who checked our tickets earlier, says 'bye' to us, and Scorpius gives him a small nod.

Oh Merlin. What, in the name of all things magical, is so bad? Why can't he just tell me now? Is it something I've done, that's made him really angry? He can't really blame me though; I can't remember what I've done and what I haven't done. So it's not really my fault.

Or, maybe it's something_ he's_ done. Maybe, he's found someone else. I feel a lump in my throat and I try to blink the tears away that are quickly forming. Not that I would blame him of course. I haven't exactly been a wife to him, have I? It's not surprising that he would get bored of waiting around for me to remember and for everything to go back to normal. It's not as if me remembering is a certainty anyway.

My mind is racing so much that I haven't even realised Scorpius has led me into a shop on the corner of the street, at the bottom of the hill. I'm not quite sure why we're in here. But then I see the fireplace at the back of the shop. He walks over to it silently, pulling me along with him.

This is just awful.

"Ivy Cottage," he says, as he's standing in the flames. I didn't even see where he got the Floo powder from; I was too distracted by my own thoughts.

I notice a small, red pot on the floor beside the fireplace. I take a handful of powder from it, and follow Scorpius to the cottage, feeling slightly terrified as to what he's going to tell me.

I fall out of the fireplace ungraciously. Scorpius is pacing the living room floor. My eyes follow him. I can't take it anymore.

"Scorpius, what's going on? If it's someone else, then just let me know. Now," I snap, hands on my waist. I'm aware of how heavily I'm breathing.

He looks at me, confused. "Of course there's not someone else, bloody hell Rosie," he replies.

I feel instant relief. I feel myself calming down slightly. I sit down on the squashy sofa. Scorpius looks over, and then comes and sits beside me.

"How could you think that?" he asks.

I shrug, and start to mess with a thread that's hanging off the corner of a cushion.

He raises his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he lets out a long sigh.

"Okay," he begins, "my parents want us to attend a small party they're having at their house."

I narrow my eyes, searching through the sentence to try and work out the part of it that's so bad that he was worried about telling me. Are his parents _that_ bad?

"And?" I say, encouraging him to continue.

"And," he winces, "we'll probably be staying over, for the night."

"Right," I say slowly. I still don't understand.

"And, they don't know you've lost your memory," he says quickly.

"What?" I ask, jumping up from the sofa.

He stands too, "They don't know you've lost your memory," he repeats, "Rosie-".

"They're your parents! It's one thing to not tell all those people back there at the Quidditch match that I've lost my memory, but your parents? Merlin, Scorpius. Are you ashamed or something?" I ask.

"No, of course not," he says, grabbing hold of my hands, "I just – I don't know – I couldn't bring myself to tell them what had happened. I didn't want to admit it was true I guess," he says, "I'm sorry Rosie, it was just hard and-"

"So, you want me to go to this party and lie to your parents, who I have never met?" I ask.

"You've met them before," he says, quickly.

"You know what I mean," I snap. "Scorpius, do you not think they're going to work out that something is going on?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" he retorts, "I just couldn't tell them what had happened. Then, afterwards I couldn't go back on it, could I? _'Oh, by the way, did I forget to mention my wife has completely forgotten our entire relationship'_. I understand it was stupid, and I shouldn't have done it but it's too late now."

"So, we've got to go to this party at your parent's house and pretend like everything is fine?" I ask, angrily, "Do you not realise how awkward and difficult that's going to be for me?"

"Yes," he replies, mirroring my anger and frustration, as if he's been holding in this worry for some time and now it's all coming out.

There's silence for a moment. He's ran his hand through his hair several times, causing it to look dishevelled and messed up. Those grey eyes are glaring at me, with a sneer on his face that instantly takes me back to Hogwarts.

Suddenly we're rushing towards each other. His hands grab for my waist and pull it close. I run my hands through his hair. Our lips crash together in a passionate and mind-blowing kiss. I feel my legs buckling underneath me. He holds me up. His hands are running up and down my body, causing sparks of electricity to jolt through me, wherever his fingers trace.

I can't help it. I want him. I _need_ him. Now. I can't think of anything or anyone else, but him and this moment. I bite his bottom lip playfully, and he lets out a small groan, causing me to push my body even closer to his.

We pull our lips apart at the same time, and look intensely into each other's eyes. His forehead is resting on mine. His breathing is rapid, like mine. He swallows, hard. He looks like he's trying his best not to rip my clothes off there and then. A small part of me wishes he would.

"We shouldn't have done that," he says.

I nod, "I know."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just-" he looks lost for words. "I couldn't help myself," he says, smirking.

"Must be this new blouse I have on," I reply.

"Must be," he says. "Under normal circumstances I'd suggest something about you taking it off. Right now."

I give him a kiss on his cheek. I feel his slightly stubble scratching against my lips.

"I should go," I say, pulling away from him.

"Will you come to the party?" he asks, "I could always make up some excuse so we don't have to."

I think about it, and then shake my head.

"No, we'll have to do it eventually won't we? And we can't exactly wait until my memory comes back as we've no idea when that will be. When is it?" I ask.

He looks relieved, "its tomorrow night," he says, looking slightly guilty that he didn't tell me sooner.

After arranging to arrive at Ivy Cottage tomorrow afternoon to get ready for the party, I leave - wondering exactly how bad tomorrow night is going to go.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :) xx **


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews :). Back to Hogwarts now; hope you all enjoy it.  
- Peaches xx**

* * *

"Okay," Kerry begins, "you want to keep things quite relaxed; you don't want to talk about anything that could cause an argument, like politics."

"Right," I say, nodding.

"And try and keep the entire conversation off school. It's okay to ask how he's getting on but then just move on. You don't want to start discussing every little detail of each lesson of _each_ subject, and how well you did in the last assignment-"

"-I don't do that," I say, but she cuts me off with an arch of her eyebrow. Okay, so maybe I do.

"Don't talk about past relationships, don't ask him about his ex-girlfriends," Kerry continues, counting items off on her fingers.

"Okay."

"And definitely do _not_ ask him about his very public break-up with Imogen Bates-"

"Even though we are quite interested in the reasons behind why he ended up with a toilet seat around his neck," interjects Jess.

I try to hide my giggle as Kerry gives Jess a moody look. Jess just sighs and leans back in her chair. Kerry is sat on the other side of me. The other Gryffindor students are happily chatting to each other in quiet tones. We're _supposed_ to be discussing different occasions when the 'Aguamenti' charm may be useful; 5 points to the group that comes up with the most original situation.

"Is there anything she actually can talk to Finnigan about?" asks Jess.

"Interesting things, hobbies, stuff like that," Kerry says.

We sit in silence for a few moments. I'm pretty sure we're all thinking the same thing; that my 'interesting things' _are_ talking about school subjects, homework and books that no one else seems fascinated in but me – everyone else just finds them dull and boring. Merlin knows why. Honestly, who doesn't enjoy reading a chapter or two of 'Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms' or 'Numerology and Grammatica' in bed, before going to sleep?

Jess breaks the silence.

"Well I'm sure you'll find something to talk to him about," She says, unconvincingly.

This 'prep talk' idea of Kerry's hasn't gone very well. In fact, I'm feeling much more worried about the date tomorrow now than I was before. Bloody Kerry and her stupid list of things to not speak about and not do. It's only casual drink anyway, it's not like I'm meeting his parents or anything like that.

Oh Merlin, will it get to the stage where I meet his parents?

The lesson comes to an end after half an hour listening to suggestions, including one humorous idea from Ravi Patel who came up with using the 'Aguamenti' charm to cover the floors in the school floors in water, so it could be turned into ice and we could all ice skate to lessons. I think we all had the same image of McGonagall attempting it, holding her hat firmly onto her head with one hand and gasping onto anything else to keep her standing upright with the other.

The three of us start strolling towards the potions classroom for our next lesson. I open my bag and check that the homework due in for today is in there (even though I've already ensured it's in there about six times already. You never know; my homework might suddenly sprout legs and make a run for the forest or something… okay, so it's _highly_ unlikely but Hugo once claimed it happened to his Astronomy homework. I realise that it was probably a lie and he'd just forgotten to complete it, but I've been paranoid about it ever since.

Jess furrows her brow and looks ahead of us, over the crowd of students walking in front of us; an advantage of being about a head taller than everyone else.

"Why are the Slytherins heading towards potions too?" she asks, looking down at Kerry and me.

I shrug and attempt a nonchalant expression on my face. My brain, however, is screaming 'Oh my Merlin, Malfoy. What if you see Malfoy? What if Jess was right and he did hear you? Remember what you said to him? _I had planned on kissing you at that party, not Aidan. I thought Aidan was you, from behind. The amount of alcohol I'd consumed and the way you looked that night… the way you acted towards me – not to mention a dream I'd had a few nights before, made me think it was a good idea_.'

I'm sure Kerry and Jess will be able to tell something is wrong with me, but they don't. They carry on chatting about the Slytherin students and potions until something Kerry says has me freezing in the middle of the corridor – causing several students to walk into the back of me.

"What did you just say?" I ask.

"That I was in the library," she replies, looking at Jess, confused, before turning back to me. "I know I'm not in there as often as you but I do grace it with my presence occasionally."

I shake my head, "not that, the other thing you said." I say it quickly. I can feel my heart beating hard against my chest.

"I was talking to your Louis and he mentioned something about all Slytherins having to do potions with the Gryffindors because-"

But I cut her off from explaining anything else. "The Slytherins? Now? In our potions lesson?" I practically shout.

"Jeez, Rosie, what's the matter with you?" Kerry asks, "it's just one lesson."

"Rosie, are you okay? You've gone a sort of pale green colour," Jess says, looking at me.

"Fine! I'm fine," I say, trying my best to calm down. I cannot see Malfoy right now. Not in front of everyone, especially when I have no idea what he did or did not hear. I'm terrified he'll blurt it out to the entire class and by the end of the day everyone single student, teacher and creature will know my business.

"Actually,"I begin, pretending to look in my bag frantically, "I think I must have left my homework on my bed. I must have forgotten to pack it this morning. You two go in. I'll only be about five minutes," I blurt out so fast that I'm not even sure they understood it completely.

I speed walk back in the direction we just came from, trying to look as calm as I can whilst also trying to get away as quick as possible. It's not easy, and my bag keeps bumping into people's thighs and I walk straight into various other students several times.

I don't go up to the dormitory. Instead, I make a snap decision and head towards the library instead – it is my 'happy place' after all. I enter through the thick, wooden doors and start to slowly feel the worry drain away. As quietly as I can, I make my way to a section right at the back, History of Magic, where hardly anyone ever goes. I sit down on the floor, leaning my back against the bookshelf.

I just know he'll be a cocky git about it all. Why did I not realise that he would have been able to hear me; that the mandrake was too young? I can just claim he's lying about it, if he tells anyway. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Who is everyone going to believe? A good student who gets top marks and never (well, hardly) gets into trouble. Or Malfoy – an arrogant arse who saunters around Hogwarts bullying first years and generally getting on everyone's nerves.

Although, my face tends to give me away when I lie – I turn bright pink and stutter. So perhaps, lying isn't the best move.

I let out a long sigh. This is just simply awful. Will I have to stay in my little secluded corner of the library until Malfoy has graduated and then I can come out of hiding and finish school?

Merlin, I'm being stupid now.

Since I'm in the library anyway I may as well get some homework completed. I pull out the latest essay for Ancient Runes and unroll it, planning to read over it and add more information at the bottom. But a slightly crumpled, folded up piece of paper has also fallen out of my bag.

Intrigued, I place the essay on the floor besides me and pick up the scrap of paper. Surely this can't be mine? It's not been folded straight for a start and one of the edges is torn. I frown and open it up.

It's my handwriting, that's for definite. I read it over quickly. It's the rota for looking after the mandrake. I keep my version of the rota in my diary – _and_ mine's all neat and tidy. So who does…

My eyes flick to the top corner. There, in my own immaculate handwriting is his name.

'_Scorpius Malfoy' _

It's the rota I gave to him when we first started the project. I gave one to Quentin too. What's this doing in my bag? I flip it over to see if anything has been written on the back but it's blank. Frowning even more, I turn it back so I'm looking at the table of dates and who's responsible for looking after the mandrake on the different day.

My eyes scroll down until they reach that awful day of Malfoy feigning deafness. There's my name, right there, next to the date. Hah! I knew I was right; I knew it was my day to look after the mandrake. I guess Malfoy must have lost this so he genuinely didn't know whose day it was.

But then I remember something. In greenhouse, after Malfoy had arrived, I picked this up off the floor and shoved it into my bag thinking it was mine. Malfoy mustn't have noticed… which means…

Malfoy knew it was my day, yet he turned up anyway? He just doesn't make sense at all. Why was he saying it was his day to look after the mandrake when he clearly must have known it was my day? He had the bloody rota with him.

I check my watch. Five minutes has gone past since I practically ran away from the potions lesson, which means the lesson should be starting anytime now. Merlin, I hate this. I've never skipped a lesson in my life… well, apart from that time when I skipped a lesson, had an argument with Malfoy and ended up falling down the stairs - but I don't like talking about that day.

I suppose missing one lesson wouldn't be that bad. Students do it all the time, and I can just copy up Jess or Kerry's notes this evening. It'll be fine. Then, I'll try and get Malfoy on his own at some point and… I guess I'll have to beg him not to say anything.

He's going to bloody love that.

Instead of thinking about his annoying smirk, which no doubt will appear on his face when I try and plead with him, I force myself to concentrate on my essay. If I am going to skip a lesson, I should probably get some work done. I'll just tell Kerry and Jess I had a stomach ache or a headache or something and went to lie down.

I take a large book out of my bag and set it down in front of me. Opening at the page I was previously reading, I begin to scan the words for something useful. Suddenly, I become aware of a couple of voices in the aisle next to the one I'm sat in. A boy and a girl I think. Trying not to be nosy, I stare hard at the page and attempt to ignore them.

Sounds like they're having an argument of some sort.

I get on my hands and knees and crawl over to row of book shelves, which is closest to them. Yes, definitely an argument. Okay, so I know listening in to a conversation is wrong but I'm currently truanting anyway so I may as well destroy my morals too. I don't even know who's arguing.

"You should have asked me anyway," comes the hushed female voice, sounding angry.

"What would have been the point? We have to go together anyway," he replies, sounding frustrated as if this argument has been going on for some time.

"It would have been nice to have to asked," she says, raising her voice slightly. I hear her sigh. "It would have been nice to know you want to go with me, rather than just being forced to," she adds, in a quieter tone this time; clearly remembering where she is and not wanting to attract the attention of Madam Pince.

There's an awkward silence. Bloody hell, even I can feel the tension as she waits for his response.

"Well?" I hear her ask.

"Well, what?" he replies. I shake my head. _Boys_.

"Do you actually want to go with me?" she asks, through what I imagine is gritted teeth.

There's another awkward silence.

"Scorpius," she snaps. I gasp; perhaps a little too loudly. I cover my mouth with my hand although, a lot of bloody good that's going to do me now. I could have gone to bloody potions, since he's skipped the lesson too.

For an awful moment I think they're both going to come around into my aisle to see who's been listening in to their conversation but they don't. I let out a slow, calming breath.

"Estelle, it's not particularly important is it? As I've said we have to go together anyway," he replies.

Annoying sod – not that I like Estelle, but he is being a right git towards her.

"It's important to me," she says. "I don't want to go to some party with someone who doesn't want to be there with me."

"Don't attend then, it's fine by me."

"Oh, really? And your parents are going to happy with that, are they?" she asks, furiously. "You need a date."

"I'll ask someone else if you don't go," he replies.

"Right, and who exactly are you going to ask?"

There's a pause. My heart starts beating hard, and _yet again_ I can feel that annoying ball of butterflies forming in the pit of my stomach. I put my head closer to the book shelves, straining to hear whose name he's going to say.

"I'll think of someone. It won't be that hard," he replies, arrogantly.

I hear her let out a laugh. "You really think another girl is going to be willing to go to a party with you?"

"I've never heard any girls complaining when they've been with me before," he says.

"This isn't some one night stand or the Halloween ball, Scorpius. This is a party at your parents' house. Do you honestly think any one of the girls you've bedded over the year is going to want to come to your house? To be in the same room as your father?"

I know she's referring to the Dark Mark etched onto his father's forearm. Mum told me all about it.

"No one needs to know," he says, even more quietly than he has been speaking.

"Everyone _does_ know Scorpius. Do you really think that the parents haven't told their children of the stories of what happened here; of what your father did?"

I jump with the shock of the sudden noise of a fist hitting a table. "You say one more word about my father, and I'll-"

"You'll what? You won't do anything because you know that when you fail to find anyone to go to the party with you that I'll be the one who has to be your date."

I hear her footsteps walking quickly away. Unsure of what to do, I stay there, frozen.

"Rosie? What are you doing?"

It's Aidan. Shit. _Shit_. I quickly get up off the floor and brush myself down.

"Nothing," I reply hastily and hope to Merlin that Malfoy hasn't heard Aidan saying my name. "I came to the library after Transfiguration, no Charms, after Charms. I needed to get a few books out. But then I got really bad cramp. In my leg. In both legs! And I had to sit down," I say, all without pausing.

"Okay," he says, slowly, "and are your legs all better now?"

I nod.

"Excellent, because I was thinking that we could-"

"Actually," I cut in, "I'm ridiculously late for a lesson. I should be in potions so I have to go, but we'll speak later on," I tell him, rushing past him after shoving everything back inside my bag.

I don't even give him a chance to say goodbye to me probably before I'm around the corner. I run right into someone and straight away I know who it is, without even looking up at his face.

"Weasley?" he asks, furrowing his brow. "Shouldn't you be in potions?"

"Shouldn't you?" I manage to retaliate. Not here, I think, please don't mention anything about the kiss at that party here – not with Aidan so close.

His eyes glance over to the aisle where I just ran from. His eyes stay on it for a moment, before they slowly come back and stop on my face. "Well, I do tend to skip the odd lesson, but you're miss goody two shoes."

I shrug. "I just didn't feel like it," I say.

"And what is it you do feel like doing?" he asks. His eyes flick down to my lips. I know he did it on purpose; he made the motion too obvious for me not to notice. I call him several swear words inside my head.

I clear my throat. "I don't know what you mean."

He smirks, "Oh I think you do," he says, "I think you've given your little mandrake book a read and you've worked it out."

I don't know what to say. I stand there, in silence, waiting for him to say something instead. It's agonising.

"Okay, so I might know what you're talking about," I say quickly and quietly.

He nods, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a triumphant smile.

"But I was lying," I hiss, "I knew you hadn't gone deaf so I just made some stuff up. I didn't think you'd actually fall for it. It was just a joke."

He just looks at me blankly. Clearly he doesn't believe a word I'm saying.

"You made it up?" he asks, "Really?"

"Yeah," I say, nodding.

"Then you won't have a problem with telling Aidan about the 'joke' you played then, will you?"

He actually made little quote marks with his fingers. The git.

"You're such a-" I begin, ready to unleash a torrent of insults.

"Rosie? I thought you had to get to class," interrupts Aidan, appearing from the aisle he'd found me in, with a couple of books under his arm. He gives Malfoy a glance. "What do you want?"

The atmosphere suddenly changes as the pair of them enter into some sort of death-glaring competition. Stuck in the middle, I glance from one to the other.

"Weasley was just telling me all about this practical joke she played," he turns to look down at me, "weren't you?" he says, smirking the entire time.

I narrow my eyes at him.

"Rosie, what he's talking about?" asks Aidan.

"Nothing, he's being an idiot," I reply sighing.

"It's true, I am," admits Malfoy. Oh merlin, this cannot be good. "You see, the other day when Rosie and I were in Greenhouse 3 together, she told me something about what happened at the party in the Slytherin common room, and I believed her. Apparently-"

"Aidan!" I interrupt Malfoy, "why don't you and me go and find somewhere a little more private" – a pause to glare at Malfoy – "so we can discuss where to go for this drink at the weekend?" I suggest, hopefully.

Aidan looks confused. He clearly knows something is going on and he's trying his best to work it out. He looks from me, to Malfoy and back to me again. He doesn't reply for a few moments. I look up to Malfoy. He's got a smirk on his face, showing how pleased he is with himself.

"What happened at the party, Rose?" asks Aidan, finally.

I sigh, "Nothing. He's just winding you up Aidan."

There's a moment of awful silence where Aidan sums up in his mind whether it's worth asking Malfoy what he's talking about. Or, whether he should just take my advice and ignore him. I will him to just leave the subject alone. Eventually he looks to Malfoy, a look a clear dislike on his face, and opens his mouth.

"You three!" Madam Pince hisses, as she comes scuttling over, brandishing a feather duster, "this is the place for quite reading and studying. Not for a social gathering."

I'm not quite sure how old Madam Pince is. I think she was pretty old when my parents were at the school, so she must be ancient by now. Yet here she still is, guarding the books of Hogwarts as if her life depends on it.

"We were just-" I begin.

"I know what you were 'just'", she says, looking at me through her thick-lensed glasses, "thinking you can just skip lessons and hide in here. Well you can't."

"But-" I say.

"I don't want to hear excuses!" she says, a collection of spit gathering in the left corner of her pinched mouth, "just get out, all three of you."

She starts to mutter to herself as we all make our way in silence towards the exit.

"Wait! Hold it!" she says, suddenly, sounding outraged.

The three of us turn around. She's pointing at Aidan with a narrow finger. "You can't just leave the library without signing those books out," she says, frustrated.

Aidan sighs and begins to follow Madam Pince over to the desk. As he's walking, he turns back.

"We'll talk later, okay?" he says, to me.

I nod. That's going to be a bloody awkward conversation. It's useless to hope that he won't want to bring up the party conversation. Me and Malfoy turn and exit the library. The corridor is empty except for a seventh year heading towards us. I wait until he's passed us, before turning on Malfoy.

"Just what do you think you were doing?" I ask him.

He just shrugs, and smirks. I roll my eyes, groan, and grab him by the arm. He lets me drag him into a deserted classroom, halfway down the corridor. I close the door behind us both.

"If you wanted me on my own Weasley, you only had to ask."

"Oh shut up," I say. I pause for a moment, trying to weigh up my options. Sod it. I'll admit it to him. He knows the truth anyway so there's no point in lying.

"Fine," I begin, "in the greenhouse I didn't realise you'd gone deaf. So, what I said I meant," – he looks so pleased with himself and cocky that I want to punch his face – "_Including_ the bit where I said I was glad I'd kissed Aidan and not you. So, there you go. What are you going to do now? Tell everyone?"

He's been leaning with his back against the wall, listening to my confession. Instead of answering my question, he stands up straight and begins to take the few steps towards me that are separating us. He only stops when he's standing right in front of me. I don't think it'd be possible for him to stand any closer.

"So, you admit it then. You do want to kiss me?"

"_Did_," I reply, putting as much emphasis on the word as I can. "But I was drunk at the time; I didn't really know what I wanted."

He cocks an eyebrow. "You weren't drunk when you had that dream though, were you? What happened in the dream?"

"I'm not telling you," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest and cursing the fact he remembered.

"Well I think I deserve to know the content if you're having dreams about me every night."

"It's not every night!" I hiss. I wanted to shout it but I'm also aware that we shouldn't really be in here. I don't want a teacher or another student to find us in here, alone. "It was just the one time, that's all."

He nods his head. "So you don't want to kiss me then?" he asks, his grey eyes piercing into me.

"Why the hell would I want to do that?" I ask, glaring back at him.

"Because," he begins, and slowly he starts to snake one of his hands around my waist. The other hand reaches up and tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear. He then slowly trails his finger down my jaw and his hand eventually comes to rest half on my cheek, half on my neck. He leans down, "I make you feel like this," he whispers into my ear.

I can feel his hot breath on my neck, making me tingle. His hand at the base of my back is holding me firmly in place. I watch as his eyes move from mine own, to my lips. He holds his gaze there for a moment, before flicking them back up again.

"You don't make me feel like anything," I lie, trying to ignore the buzzing sensation in the pit of my stomach. But come on, I bet if any guy held me like that, I'd feel the same, tingling feelings as I am now.

"No?" he says.

"No," I reply firmly. "Not at all. Not even in the slightest."

"You're blushing Rosie," he says, stroking my cheek with the pad of this thumb.

So, I know I probably should push him off me by now, but something is holding me back. I want to see what he'll do next. Also, there may be a teeny, tiny, miniscule part of me that actually doesn't want him to let go.

"Shut up," I reply, for lack of a better come back.

The hand at the base of my back pulls me even closer towards him, so our bodies are touching completely. I can feel his toned chest; I can see his collar bone, where he has loosened his tie and undone his top button; I can smell him and his aftershave. Bloody hell he smells good.

"You can stop me at any time," he says, cocking an eyebrow.

I shrug, "Why don't you just stop instead?"

He shrugs as well. In one swift movement he's taken the clip out of my hair, and begins to run his hand through my now loose curls. It's like we're playing some sort of game. I'm seeing how far he will actually go and he's seeing how far I'll let him.

"Does it ever get boring being a bossy, know-it-all?" he asks.

"Not as of yet. You must get fed up of being an arrogant, egotistical arse though."

He raises both eyebrows. "You really get on my nerves, Weasley."

"Ditto. I can't stand you. I'd probably go as far to say that I hate you."

He nods, "Yeah, I'd say I hate you too."

"So, you probably want to detach yourself from someone you hate then?" I ask, tilting my head slightly to one side.

He looks hungrily at my neck and then lips. It gives me the sudden urge to wrap my arms around him and pull his face to mine.

"Oh I don't know," he says, "I'm having quite a bit of fun," he says.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought :) ****  
- Peaches xx**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hi :). Firstly, I just want to say a big sorry for keeping you all waiting so long for an update. I have been ridiculously busy this past few months with essay writing and exam revision/stress. Also, I've been away on mini holidays to the Lake District, Lancaster and Edinburgh (as I'll be moving up there in Aug/Sept - :D exciting!). So now that I have got my reasons for being a rubbish updater out of the way, let's get on with the story :) – back to older Scorp and Rosie. **

**Peaches, xx**

* * *

"It's just a small dinner with Scoroius's parents, nothing to worry about," I tell my mum who has been looking increasingly concerned since I told her this morning where I was going. "It's not like it's a big party or anything," I lie, feeling guilty.

I haven't told my parents about Scorpius not telling his mother and father about me losing my memory. I didn't want to add to their worry. And besides, I'm sure tonight will be absolutely fine and nothing will go wrong.

Well, I hope it doesn't anyway.

No, I'm sure it won't. I'm sure it'll all go absolutely fine and we'll have a good time and everything will be just lovely. However, a _tiny_ part of me wishes that tonight I could just snuggle up in front of the fire with a book and a steaming hot cup of tea.

"Are you sure you don't need to take anything with you?" mum asks, holding out a pair of pyjamas in one hand and my toothbrush in her other.

I sigh, having been over this several times this morning already.

"Everything I need is at the cottage, so I'll just pack an overnight bag there," I say.

"Are you sure?" she asks again, creasing her forehead.

"Hermione, just leave her alone. If she says she has everything she needs at the cottage, then she doesn't need to take anything from here," says dad, giving me a sympathetic smile.

"I think it'd be wise to take something, just in case. It's better to be prepared," she says, knowingly.

"If she doesn't have something she needs, then she can probably quite easily pick one up from a nearby shop. Toothbrushes aren't hard to come by," replies dad, opening up the newspaper to the back pages to read an article about the Chudley Cannons.

"But what is the point in her 'picking one up' as you put it, when she can just take one from here?" retaliates mum, moving across the living room so she's standing in front of dad.

He sighs and puts his paper down.

"Oh, I'll just take the bloody toothbrush," I say, before an argument over toiletries can break out between my parents. _Honestly._

Both of them look at me. Mum looks concerned and anxious. Dad, on the other hand, seems to have taken the wise move to hide his laugher amidst a sudden coughing fit. I take the toothbrush off mum and with a lack of anywhere better to put it, I shove it into my jeans pocket. Well it's not like I'm going to use it anyway. I'm sure I'll have a toothbrush at the cottage.

"I'd better get going now," I say, feeling a swift sensation of nerves in the pit of my stomach.

"You don't have to go you know, if you don't feel ready for it," mum says quickly.

"Mum," I begin.

"And remember if it all gets too much for you then you can come back here, whatever time. Don't worry about waking up me or your father."

Dad gets up out of the arm chair and stands next to mum, "what she means is, have a good time and we'll speak to you tomorrow," he says. He wraps his arm around her and gives her a small squeeze, "don't you?"

She forces a smile, "Well of course I want her to have a good time but-"

"Hermione,"

She sighs, "Let us know all about the party when we see you tomorrow."

I give my dad a thankful smile, before grabbing a handful of Floo powder from the terracotta pot beside the fireplace. After a quick goodbye, I'm standing the in the living room of the cottage few moments later.

"Scorpius?" I say, to the empty room.

I listen hard but can't hear any noises suggesting movement. Suddenly I feel a bit like a trespasser, which is silly, because this is my home after all. I take tentative steps towards the door leading into the hallway. It's empty. Although what did I expect really? Scorpius to just be standing there?

I walk into the kitchen, and a quick glance around the room tells me this room is also deserted. Maybe he's not in. Hmm, now what? I take the toothbrush out and throw it into the bin. I don't particularly want to use it after it's been in my pocket. Perhaps I should check I definitely have one upstairs.

I make my way back out of the kitchen, into the hallway and start up the stairs. Feeling slightly more comfortable now that I'm confident Scorpius isn't in the cottage right now, I unzip my hoodie, take it off, and hang it over the banister. The en-suite is probably my best bet in locating my toothbrush. I wander into the bedroom, pushing the bedroom door open quietly. My feet hardly make a sound as they pad across the thick, plush carpet. I probably should have taken my shoes off. Merlin, what if I've walked dirt into the carpet? What if Scorpius has an OCD about having shoes on the cottage?

Making a note to myself to remember to go back through the house and check the floors before Scorpius gets home, I slip off my shoes. I can never be bothered to undo the laces. I take the few steps left towards the bathroom door, hoping that I'll be able to distinguish my toothbrush from his. Perhaps it'll be in a toothbrush holder with a 'Rosie' label or something.

I reach out my hand to grab the door handle and suddenly, the bathroom door opens before I can grasp it… and there's Scorpius, drops of water running down his torso with only a white towel wrapped around his waist. Oh, my…

He just smirks and my somewhat shocked /grateful expression.

"I didn't expect you for another hour darling," he says.

"I just," I begin, trying not to stutter. Like some sort of pervert, I can't help but run my eyes up and down his body.

"Yes?" he asks, evidently enjoying this whole situation.

I clear my throat and force myself to look at his eyes and nothing else. Particularly not his toned arms or six pack.

"I thought I should come earlier so I have time to pack an overnight bag," I reply, "plus mum was getting on my nerves a bit," I admit to him.

"Already done," he says, pointing to a large, black weekend bag on the bed.

"Oh. Good. And is my toothbrush in there?" I ask.

The side of his mouth pulls up into a small smile, "Yes, your toothbrush is in there."

I move my gaze from the bag to look back at his face and oh Merlin,_ I just looked at his crotch! _

I feel my cheeks burning instantly. I really hope he didn't see that. I look down to the floor, pretending to be deeply interested in my socks. I let a few seconds pass, before allowing myself to attempt to look up at him for a second time.

_I DID IT AGAIN! _

Okay, he definitely saw that, judging by the schoolboy smirk plastered all over his face. Now I can feel a deep red colour creeping up onto my cheeks from the total humiliation. This is just fan-bloody-tastic. He'll think I'm some sort of pervert.

"I think I have something in my eye," I say, quickly looking down at the floor again and rubbing it. Perhaps I can just continue to rub it until he's got dried and dressed. Yes that's an excellent plan.

"Here, let me help you," he says, walking closer.

"It's fine," I almost yell, as he goes to take hold of my face with his hands so he can get a look at the non-existent particle in there. I quickly take a step back to avoid him touching me. Who knows what I'll do now I've realised I'm so perverted. I'll probably rip his towel off or something…

"I mean, it's gone now," I say, more calmly. "I'll go and make a cup of tea or something and just leave you to get dressed," I say, before I can do anything else to embarrass myself in front of him.

"I've hung up a few of your evening dresses in the spare room, if you want to go and decide on what one to wear tonight," he says, as he opens of the doors of the wardrobe and takes out a shirt.

"Okay," I reply, thankful that he has given a reason to leave the room.

Actually I'm quite looking forward to see what dresses he's picked out. Cup of tea completely forgotten, I head to the spare room (or what I assume is the spare room, and I'm right first time). He's hung three dresses up on a clothes rail, which has been placed in the centre of the room.

I can tell just by looking at them that they all much have cost a small fortune. Gingerly I touch the silk of the one closest to me. The material flows through my hand like water. It's a deep blue colour and floor length. Usually I'm not one for getting giddy over clothes, but I'm aching to try this one on. I take it off the rail carefully and hold it up against myself.

There's a full-length mirror in the corner of the room. I walk over to it, careful not to tread on the bottom hem of the dress as I go. The colour compliments my skin tone and seems to make my eyes sparkle. I _have_ to wear this one, even though I've not really looked at the other ones. This one is simply perfect.

Then, a horrific thought comes to mind. What if we're eating and I spill my dinner all over it? Not only will it mortifying, but it will utterly destroy the dress too. What if I trip up and end up ripping it or something? No, I simply can't wear something this pretty.

There's a knock at the door.

"It's open," I say.

It's Scorpius, obviously. Thank Merlin he's actually got some clothes on now.

His face lights up when he sees what I'm holding.

"I hoped you'd pick that one," he smiles.

"I'm not too sure; I don't want to end up wrecking it. It's too pretty."

"Darling," he begins, walking over to me, "You won't end up wrecking it."

"I bet I do," I grumble.

He smirks, "I bet you a tub of Florean Fortescue's ice cream that you don't".

"So, if I don't wreck my dress, I get ice cream?" I ask, wanting clarification. Ice cream is an important matter.

He simply nods. I narrow my eyes.

"What favour?"

"Peanut butter and chocolate?" he suggests.

"And if I do wreck my dress?"

"Then you owe me ice cream," he leans closer and kisses the top of my head, "and a replacement dress obviously, because it cost me six months wages."

"What?" I yell, staggered that someone would even charge that amount for a dress, let alone someone would actually purchase it.

"Darling, I'm joking," he replies, smirking as he makes his way to the door, "It was only five."

I glare at him. "Oh just sod off," I say, after realising he was just winding me up. At least I hope he was just winding me up.

He laughs. Then, just before he's about to leave the room, he says, "we can leave soon if you want, that way you can get to 'meet' my parents before the other guests arrive this evening."

"Thanks," I say, wondering when he actually changed from the selfish boy in school to the thoughtful person he is now.

I locate a clothes bag lying on the bed. I put the dress into it ever so carefully and zip it up, so it's all ready for the journey to Scorpius's parents' house.

* * *

So, to say I'm nervous is a massive understatement. I'm 'quivering like Quirrell' as my dad would say. I can't believe we're actually going to try and pull this off. Perhaps I could try and persuade Scorpius that I've suddenly come down with some sort of illness and therefore I'm too sick to travel and attend any lavish dinner parties.

"Ready?" Scorpius asks, coming into the room carrying the weekend bag.

"Yeah," I manage to say, for lack of coming up with a suitable and believable ailment.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

I just nod.

Clearly I'm not hiding my nerves very well. He puts down the bag and places both of his hands onto my shoulders. "You'll be fine," he says, smiling, "Father's name is Draco and mother's name is Astoria."

Again, I just nod. He's told me all of this already but I have this sinking feeling that I'm going to forget everything as soon as I see them.

"It'll be fine," he says, and for a moment I'm not sure if it's me he's trying to convince, or himself.

"So, is it Floo Powder we're travelling by then?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "car".

"You can drive?" I ask him, arching an eyebrow. I'm quite impressed. Mum and dad can drive, obviously, so it's not the driving that's impressive – it's the fact that someone like Scorpius Malfoy would bother to learn to drive.

"Of course I can darling, it annoys my parents," he says, smirking.

Soon I'm standing outside the cottage, waiting for Scorpius to get his suit from the bedroom. If I were more of a car person, I'd be able to tell you the make and model. However, since I'm more interested in books and other equally nerdy things, all I can say is that it's black, it has two seats, the roof can go down and it looks like it goes fast; _really fast_.

"Got it," Scorpius says, leaving the cottage and locking the door behind him.

I follow him to the boot, wondering how he's going to fit this suit in there along with everything else. He opens it up. Ah, of course. The seemingly small boot is actually quite large in size. Our weekend bags fit in nicely and my dress and his suit even have enough room to lie down smoothly, to avoid them becoming creased.

"So how long does it take to drive to your parent's house?" I ask, opening up the car door. I attempt to get in elegantly, but I end up banging my head. I run my hand through my hair and secretly rub my throbbing head, hoping he didn't notice.

"A couple of hours," he replies, starting the car up and pulling out of the driveway.

Merlin I hope I don't make a fool of myself in front of his parents. Will they be expecting someone who is graceful and poised? Perhaps over the years I've taught myself to turn into that person and now I've completely forgotten it all. I'll probably fall over a rug or something straight after I enter their house and crash into his mother, who at that precise moment would have been holding dessert and trifle will go everywhere.

Don't be silly Rosie, the Malfoy's don't eat trifle for dessert.

After a while, Scorpius says he's going to take the more scenic route instead, to avoid the motorway. It'll take a little while longer to get there, but I don't mind at all. I can feel my nerves increasing as we get nearer and nearer.

I sense giving me a quick glance, before he places his hand over my fidgeting ones.

"It will be fine," he says.

I let out a sigh.

"It won't be though, will it? Your parents will realise straight away that something is up. We won't be able to keep this lie that we're a perfectly happy, married couple going. They will notice something. They'll ask me a question I won't know the answer to, or I'll say something to make it obvious I'm actually living at home with my parents, rather than with you at the cottage."

Scorpius lets a moment of silence pass after my outburst, before he begins.

"My parents are not going to realise. They'll be too busy with socialising with their other guests to notice anything. Trust me, it'll be fine," he pauses for a moment. "Rosie, if it's getting too much for you, and you really want to leave, then we can just make up some emergency."

"What like, Hugo has been taken to St. Mungo's because he blew something up and he currently has orange goo attached to his face?"

He smirks, "we're used that one before; obviously not the orange goo condition, but something similar."

That makes me feel slightly better. Hugo and his accident-prone ways had to come in useful as some point. It almost makes up for all those nights he has kept me awake with strange and mysterious bangs coming from his room.

In no time at all it seems, Scorpius is pulling into the gravelled driveway of what appears to be a mansion. He winds his window down, flicks his wand at the gates, and they open up before us. Slowly he drives towards the large house, with the gravel crunching beneath his tyres. With each metre I can feel my confidence slowly ebbing away. Oh bugger.

"Oh Merlin, oh Merlin," I begin to repeat, under my breath.

The huge door opens and out comes Mr and Mrs Malfoy; Mrs Malfoy holding a cocktail in one hand, and linking her husband's arm with the other.

"Oh bloody hell, there they are," I say, frozen to the spot. Perhaps I can just stay in the car. I'm sure they won't mind.

"Rosie," Scorpius says, "Get out," as if he can read my mind. With the click of a button he has unfastened my seat belt and is out of the car. I take a steady breath and try my best to calm myself down before exiting the car myself.

"Scorpius, really?" his father says, eyeing the car with a look of distain.

"It's nice to see you too father," replies Scorpius, smiling.

He goes up to the pair of them; hugs his mother, then shakes his father's hand. Well, here goes nothing. I let out a small sigh before walking towards them.

"Hi, I'm Rosie," I say, holding out my hand.

And then I realise. Shit. In unison, both of their foreheads crease and they give each other a look, as if to say 'what's she been drinking this afternoon?'. _Shit. _

Scorpius looks bewildered, like he can't quite believe I could have messed it up so quickly. Well I did warn him. He forces a laugh and wraps his arm around my shoulder. I copy his lead; although perhaps my laugh comes out _slightly_ too fake.

"Only joking!" I say, hoping to Merlin that the ground will just open up and I'll be sucked right in. "I know who you are," I add, and then regret it. Instantly.

Mrs Malfoy gives a little tinkle of a laugh. Mr Malfoy looks solemnly at me for a moment.

"Right," he says, eventually. "Shall we?" he asks, turning around and leading us into the house.

Bloody hell this is awkward. I know as soon as I'm out of ear shot, he'll be saying to Scorpius,_ 'Do you see? This is the type of thing that happens when you marry a Weasley'_.

We come to a stop in the entrance hall. My eyes follow the grand staircase, up to the hallway above us. No. I need to stop this. I need to pretend like I've seen all of this before.

"How are you feeling Rose?" Mrs Malfoy asks, "We're sorry we have not visited you since your accident."

"Oh it's fine," I reply, feeling grateful that they didn't unexpectedly show up at the cottage. "And I'm all better now, thank you, Mrs Malfoy."

She gives me a weird look, "Rose, call me Astoria," she says, slowly. She looks at Scorpius, showing signs of concern on her face.

"Of course," I say, rubbing my forehead and then running my hand through my hair. I've only been here five-bloody-minutes and already I've made a complete mess of it all.

"Rosie's just been feeling a bit tired and under the weather. We got her some medicine but I think it must have had some sort of peculiar effect on her," he turns to look down at me, "you've not been yourself, have you?" he asks, smiling.

I smile back, thankful that he's such a quick-thinker. "Yeah, that's right," I say, "Sorry."

"Drinks first?" Mr Malfoy asks, or rather interrupts. I can tell he's getting impatient.

"That's an excellent idea," Astoria gushes, "we can-"

"-Actually mother, I think it might be best if Rosie and I take our bags up to our room first? We can meet you in the garden for drinks afterwards."

"Yes you might be right," she says, "You know the room Scorpius?"

He nods and picks up our bags. I follow him, feeling guilty that I've almost messed everything up, twice.

"Er, Rosie dear," says Astoria, walking quickly towards me. Her high heels are tapping rapidly on the floor with her fast footsteps. "I know how it can be, dealing with everything so I understand you might have taken a little something to, you know, help you along. There's some tablets in the bathroom cabinet; they might help bring you back down to normal, if you get my drift?"

"I, er-" I begin, not quite sure how to proceed. What does one say to your mother-in-law as she politely offers you drugs?

"Green bottle," she continues, patting my arm, "don't touch the blue ones."

"Right," I say, "thanks".

As soon as we're in the room, I turn to look at Scorpius as he closes the door behind us.

"I am so sorry, I just completely forgot everything you told me about your parent's names and then that thing I said when I got out of the car," I stop and cover my face with my hands, "oh Merlin," I say, sounding muffled.

Scorpius takes hold of my arms at the wrists and pulls them away from my face.

"It'll be fine. They're not going to tell anyone what happened, trust me."

"Your mother thinks I'm some sort of drug addict!" I say.

He just laughs, "well let's just try and get through a couple of drinks with my parents without making arrangements for my mother to be your dealer and then we can concentrate on surviving tonight."

* * *

So, drinks with the in-laws went surprisingly well. Well, they drank wine. I just had a cup of tea. I don't want to end up drinking too much tonight in case I end up revealing my amnesia to everyone. I'm terrified I'll announce it to the table as the chocolate tarts are brought out.

I take let out a slow, long breathe and desperately try to calm my nerves. Everything will be fine. Surely it'll come true if I say it enough times?

There's a small knock at the door.

"Yes?" I say, although I don't go over to open it.

"Are you ready? The other guests are arriving now; we should really be downstairs," says Scorpius through the door.

I'm in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror and admiring my dress. It's absolutely gorgeous, but perhaps it's a bit too much. Imagine if I'm the only one that's dressed up so elegantly.

"I'm sure you look lovely," he says after a moment.

I smile to myself. How does he always seem to know what I'm thinking? I narrow my eyes and stare suspiciously at the door. Is he skilled in legilimency and has just forgotten to mention it?

"Rosie-" he begins, but I'm already opening the door. Now he's just staring at me.

"I'm ready," I say, as he just says silent; seemingly unable to talk.

It takes a few times of him opening and closing his mouth before eventually he's able to form any words.

"You look-"

"It's too much isn't it? It's too fancy. I knew it. I haven't got anything else though, unless you brought something in that bag. I knew I should've-"

"You look amazing," he says.

The way he says it, and the way he's looking at me, almost takes my breath away.

"Shall we?" he says, holding out his arm.

I link mine through his and he leads me to the staircase. Perhaps tonight won't be too bad after all.

* * *

**Updating will become a lot more regular now :). I have also decided to create a twitter account for this fanfiction account; it's a really easy way of keeping you all up to date with when the next chapter will be, if there's going to be a delay in chapters, and so on. So give that a follow if you're interested :) ' peaches_1418'**

**Thanks a lot for reading!**

**- Peaches, xx **


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you for all the lovely reviews :). Back to Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy-Warty Hogwarts :). Hope you enjoy it!  
- Peaches xx**

* * *

"Yeah, this is about as much fun as having the 'Petrificus Totalus' charm used on me," I say.

Surprisingly, I manage to shove him away from me and escape out the door. I hear a crash behind me, and what sounds like a chair being knocked over. Bloody hell, I didn't mean to push him that hard. Without turning back, I speed walk down the corridor as fast as I can, without breaking the 'running in the corridors' rule.

Hoping to Merlin that he's not following me (because I really could do without another falling-down-the-stairs-whilst-arguing-with-Malfoy scene), I make my way to the Gryffindor common room. I'm actually feeling quite queasy, so telling Jessie and Kerry that I went to bed rather than Potions because I wasn't feeling well won't be a complete lie.

I feel like I don't stop holding my breath until I've reached the dormitory. In one, swift motion, I walk over to my bed and get completely under the covers – dropping my school bag somewhere in the room along the way.

This is just completely and utterly awful. How have I managed to get myself into this? Go to the party and have a good time, _they said_. It'll be fun and what's the worst that could happen, _they said_. Yeah well, look at me now. Hiding under my duvet in the middle of the day and skipping lessons. I'd tell them all I was right, that nothing good would come of it, if I could actually tell them what was going on.

Bloody hormones, destroying my life. I'll probably look back at this entire situation when I'm older and laugh about it. _"Do you remember the time when I fancied Malfoy?!"_ and my friends will tease me, and I'll cringe, but it'll be fine because I'll be going home to my lovely husband – with Malfoy completely out of my mind.

That's if I get married. I might not. I might just be single forever, because it would be way easier. I wouldn't have to deal with any of this nonsense. Perhaps I could ask mum and dad if they would tutor me at home, so I never have to come to Hogwarts again. Although I doubt they'd believe any excuse I came up with.

I sigh and snuggle even further underneath my duvet. Perhaps I could just stay here, in bed, forever. No boys are allowed up here so I would never have to deal with Malfoy (or Aidan for that matter) ever again.

Oh Merlin, _Aidan_. Just how exactly am I going to explain what Malfoy was talking about in the library to him? I'm sure he's going to bring it up at some point. Jeez, when did everything get so complicated? I'm never going to a party again, that's for sure.

I must fall asleep because the next thing I know, Jess is gently shaking me awake.

"Hey," she says, "are you alright?"

I look at her through my bleary eyes, before I remember where I am and what happened.

"I just felt sick and I had stomach pains, so I came up to bed," I tell her, putting on my best 'ill' face.

She furrows her brow in concern, "are you feeling any better?" she asks.

"A bit," I mumble.

"Do you want to come down for something to eat? It's tea time."

I shake my head, "I'm not really hungry," I tell her truthfully, because quite frankly, the thought of entering The Great Hall where Malfoy and Aidan will be, turns my stomach.

"Well come down if you feel up to it, and if you don't, then I'll bring something up for you," she says, giving me a small smile.

"Thanks Jess," I say, feeling guilty about lying to her.

She leaves the room quietly and I roll over and try to get back to sleep. But mention of food already has my stomach rumbling in hunger. I can't go down though, not until I've decided how I'm going to explain everything to Aidan. I'm pretty certain Malfoy isn't going to say anything if I'm not there – he'll want the satisfaction of seeing my face as he tells Aidan the whole thing. The git.

I'm sure everything will be better in the morning, and I'll wake up with a perfect plan miraculously already in my mind. Everything will go back to normal and I won't have to deal with this sort of stress again (well, until the exams but even then, that's stress I actually _enjoy_). Perhaps Malfoy will do a prank to some student that goes horribly wrong and McGonagall will make him leave Hogwarts forever.

A Malfoy-free school makes a smile appear on my face, as I wrap the duvet even tighter around myself and try to force myself back to sleep.

* * *

I wake up the next morning, just as the sun is starting to rise. The rest of the girls are still fast asleep, so I quietly sneak into the bathroom to get showered and dressed. When I've finished it's only seven, but with nothing better to do, I head down the stairs and make my way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As I suspected (and desperately hoped) the Great Hall only has a few eager students in; either those frantically finishing homework or just naturally early birds. None of them, however, is Malfoy or Aidan. I let out a sigh of relief, sit down at the Gryffindor table and pour myself a glass of orange juice.

I take a sip and almost instantly nearly spit it back out again. Aidan has just walked in. In normal circumstances, when the Great Hall is full of students and morning chatter, there's a chance he wouldn't have seen me. However, since I'm sat by myself with no one sat anywhere near me, he spots me instantly. I somehow manage to match his grinning, yet quizzical expression.

"What are you doing here?" he says, sitting down beside me and grabbing hold of the jug of apple juice.

"Eating breakfast," I reply, somehow managing not to add 'obviously' onto the end of it. I'm feeling _slightly_ grumpy that he's just come in and destroyed any hope of me having a peaceful and relaxing breakfast.

"I mean, what are you doing here so early," he says, as he lets out a small laugh. Merlin, _that laugh_.

All the grouchiness seeps out of my body as I succeed in not swooning at his gorgeous Irish lilt.

"I couldn't really sleep," I reply, "you?"

"Homework," he replies, sounding slightly guilty as he pulls the piece of parchment out of his bag and sets it down on the table.

I avoid looking at it. Otherwise I know I'll just get too involved in talking about school and subjects and homework. And Kerry said that was one of the things I shouldn't talk to him about, because they're 'boring'. Apparently. Although to be fair, she probably is correct. I mean, he has left his homework until the morning it's due it. Imaging the stress it would cause me if I did that makes me shiver.

I take some toast from the pile and butter it, as Aidan gets down to work and begins writing out another paragraph.

"So, what was Malfoy talking about yesterday?" Aidan asks, sheepishly, as though he's just asking casually and hasn't been thinking about it all night.

He asked just as I took a bite of my toast. Usually this irritates me. I mean, why ask me a question when we then have to sit in an awkward silence as I hastily chew and swallow my mouthful? But this morning, I'm rather glad that Aidan has disregarded this little pet peeve of mine. It gives me a few moments to think, as I point to my mouth to indicate I'll answer his question when I've finished.

All too soon I've swallowed the toast. I take a sip of orange juice, and then turn to face him. I'm hoping that he'll be back to writing down the answer for his homework. But he isn't. Instead, he's looking at me expectantly.

I let out what I hope is a nonchalant sigh, "like I said yesterday, he was just messing about."

"But he-"

"-just ignore whatever he said or no doubt is going to say in the foreseeable future. He's just jealous."

"Jealous?" Aidan asks, raising his eyebrows, "does he fancy you?"

The question has me choking on my juice.

"_What?_ No. I didn't say that. Why, has he said something?" I ask, perhaps a bit too frantically.

This time he furrows his eyebrows. "No, it's just you said-"

"What I meant Aidan is that, Malfoy is jealous of other people being happy, like you and me. He's jealous because he's just stuck being this self-righteous, ignorant, selfish, snobby, little git-" I pause, well aware that Aidan is staring at me quizzically, "-Just ignore him. His only happiness comes from making other people miserable."

"Like, you and me?" he repeats, cocking his head to one side. His mouth has pulled into this half smile, making him rather attractive.

But even so, rather attractive or not, I didn't mean to kiss Aidan at that party so surely starting something with him would be completely unfair? His face looks hopeful, like he's expecting me to say something about having drinks with him. Do I really want to start a relationship now, after everything that's happened? I'm certain focusing on my schoolwork would be the best thing to do, and I can leave all the boy and relationship dramas to Kerry (although to be fair, she's probably had enough of her own anyway).

I think it's definitely best to end things now; to just completely cut myself off from everything and get back to being the real Rosie Weasley: a nerdy girl, whose main focus is school grades and books.

"Aidan-" I begin.

But then instinct, for whatever reason, has me looking up over Aidan's shoulder and towards the huge wooden doors. There, standing in the doorway is Malfoy himself. He's staring over at the pair of us. Well, staring doesn't really do that death glare justice. Luckily Aidan is facing the opposite direction so he hasn't spotted him yet.

"Yes?" he asks, leaning ever so slightly closer.

I part my lips to speak, and all of a sudden his lips are on mine. I know I should pull away. I know that I should stick with what I said before and focus on school, rather than this. However the frustrations of what happened with Malfoy in the classroom yesterday bubble to the surface of my mind. Perhaps this is the way to get Malfoy out of my head.

Not that's he's in my head, obviously. Because I don't fancy him or anything like that. But, you know what I mean.

I pull away, gently. Aidan looks at me like I've just ripped my top off and declared I want him there and then on the breakfast table. Bloody hell. I suppose I was kissing him quite passionately. I clear my throat; unsure of what to say or do now. Offer him a croissant perhaps?

"Wow," is all Aidan says, sounding slightly breathless.

I give him an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about that" I say.

I look around the Hall. No one seems to have noticed our P.D.A - although this is Hogwarts and usually it is the most confidential top-secrets that end up being the topic of discussion during free periods. As I turn back to Aidan, I sneak a quick glance at the doors. Malfoy is no longer standing there. He's not at the Slytherin table either.

It's not that I care, obviously. Why should I? It was just a general observation that I happened to notice. One minute he was there, staring daggers at Aidan and I, and the next he's disappeared to Merlin knows where. It's not that I've done anything wrong either. Okay, so McGonagall might have shown _some_ objection to Aidan and me kissing, but it's not like it hasn't been done thousands of times before. I'm sure it'll only take a few minutes for these feelings of guilt and dread I have collecting in the pit of my stomach to disappear completely.

Hopefully.

It only takes to last lesson until I'm completely and utterly fed up of people whispering as I walk past them in the corridor and other, more confident students, coming up to ask if me and Aidan are "a thing". What does that even mean anyway? And with a lack of any proper answer, I have been ignoring these questions and trying my best to continue my day as normal as possible. Kerry and Jess seem happy for me (although happy because I kissed him in public or happy because they think we're in a relationship, I'm not too sure). I managed to yet again avoid answering any uneasy questions about Aidan and me, however I think they have come to the conclusion that we are in fact going out together.

Now in Herbology, I'm feeling particularly grumpy and relieved; both moods due to the fact that Malfoy has (surprise, surprise) decided not to turn up to the lesson. But never mind, I'm sure Quentin and I will be able to present to Professor Longbottom what we have completed so far.

"This is the essay I've written up about how Mandrakes can be used to cure those who have been Petrified," says Quentin, showing me a long piece of parchment.

"Excellent," I say, taking it so I can read it. "And here's my report on how Mandrakes were used in the Battle of Hogwarts."

We both sit in silence reading each other's work until Professor Longbottom eventually makes it to our table.

"Right you two, what have you got for me?" he asks, looking down at the work we have set out for him to see.

"We would have another essay about the use of Mandrake leaves too but Malfoy hasn't turned up," says Quentin. I sense he's feeling somewhat gleeful about snitching on Malfoy.

Professor Longbottom doesn't look at all surprised, however rather than getting angry he just sighs.

"Well the deadline for the project is next week, to you have time to get the project finished and finalised. I'll take into account the lack of Mr. Malfoy's participation on the task when I come to giving you your grades," he says, as he flicks through our work.

I glance over at Quentin and see him trying to hide the smug expression he has on his face.

"Well, Malfoy has done _some_ work," I say quickly, before I realise I've even said anything.

"Like what?" asks Quentin, looking at me as if I have just betrayed him.

Professor Longbottom is looking at me too, with his eyebrows raised.

"Well, I mean, he's looked after the Mandrake on his days. And on those days, he did write it up in his journal," I reply, struggling to think up anything else.

"A journal we haven't seen because he never brings it to lessons, and never attends when we have a group meeting," says Quentin.

"Okay," says Professor Longbottom, clearly sensing an argument over Malfoy's competence is about to break out, "let's just see what he's contributed when you finally put everything together and-"

"Here he is now!" exclaims Quentin all of a sudden, giving one, firm, point towards the glass door. "We can ask him," he adds.

I put all my effort into making my face appear neutral and blasé, as if the thought of him pushing his body up against mine isn't racing through my mind right now and making my palms sweaty and my heart race. Which, of course, it shouldn't be doing, because I kissed Aidan and so therefore I should definitely not be having those kind of thoughts about another boy – particularly Malfoy.

I look down trying to avoid his gaze, but a girl can only seem interested in a bag of dragon dung for so long. When I glance up, he's giving me the coldest, most stern face I have ever seen; and I've witnessed McGonagall in a foul mood.

"Quentin, Weasley," he says, as a way of greeting. Well, I say 'say' but it sounded like he was spitting my name out of his mouth.

"Ah Mr. Malfoy, the very person we were just discussing. Do you have any work to hand in?" asks Professor Longbottom, hopefully.

"Of course," he replies, dropping the pieces of parchment and his Mandrake diary onto the table in front of us.

Quentin and Professor Longbottom just stare at it for a moment; perhaps slightly in wonder that Malfoy has actually completed a piece of work. Instead, I keep my gaze locked onto Malfoy himself. His expression doesn't change at all, as he too continues to look at me.

Did it just get a bit colder in here?

"Well, at least it's something," says Professor Longbottom. "I would have preferred _slightly_ more research," he says, the emphasis on the 'slightly' indicating that he actually means rather a lot, "but it's a good starting point."

He turns to leave. I can't bear to be left alone with Malfoy and Quentin just yet – who knows what Malfoy will do with that nearby trowel considering the foul mood he's in.

"Professor?" I say, quickly.

"Yes Rosie?" he asks, stopping by our table.

"I, erm," okay, so I hadn't actually thought of anything. He just stands there, waiting expectantly. "What books do you suggest we look at for the further research?" I ask.

He just furrows his brow, "Rosie, I shouldn't need to tell you; you spend the majority of your time in the library. I wouldn't be surprised if you knew the books in there better than I did. And besides," he adds, sounding disappointed, "this is supposed to be a project in which you show me what you know and what you have learnt; I certainly don't want to be telling you what books to look for. You should be doing that by yourself."

Then he's gone, off to other table, whilst I'm left feeling embarrassed by my slight telling-off. Well, at least it paused whatever Malfoy is plotting for five seconds or so. I just stand there awkwardly, whilst Malfoy continues to glare. Quentin, clearly sensing the tension, makes his excuses and leaves the pair of us alone. He walks over to a group of his friends. I see him whispering something to them, and then all of them look over at Malfoy and me. Oh Merlin I hope he isn't going to make a scene.

"What's the matter with you?" I ask, breaking the silence, "Zabini wasn't impressed with-"

But he cuts my insult on his bedroom skills short.

"I saw you and Aidan at breakfast," he states.

"Well, I know you did. You were staring right at us," I reply, folding my arms across my chest.

That all too familiar smirk appears on his face, although his time he's still glaring at me.

"Oh, so you did it on purpose then so I had to be a witness to it? Trying to make me jealous or something Weasley?"

"What? No, of course not. It's not my fault you were just staring at us."

"So your little performance wasn't for my benefit then?"

"Why would I possibly want to do something for your benefit? I actually quite happen to like Aidan". I want to add 'so there' onto the end, but it'd make me seem incredibly childish.

Before Malfoy can reply, Professor Longbottom is calling the lesson to an end. There's a bit of a scuffle as everyone rushes to grab their bags from underneath the tables and rushes to the door. Malfoy however, stays exactly where he is.

"You really like Aidan?" he asks, keeping his voice quiet. Despite the noise around us, I still managed to hear what he said.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" I reply, "In fact, there he is now, so if you'll excuse me?"

I've spotted Aidan standing outside the greenhouse, waiting for the lesson to be over. To be honest, I'm not _quite_ sure why he's there. It's not like we made plans or anything. Perhaps this is what we do now; wait outside each other's classrooms, walk hand-in-hand in the corridors, eat breakfast and dinner together. Nevertheless, Malfoy doesn't need to know my confusion. So to make a point, I walk past him and 'accidently' hit him with my bag on the way.

"I suppose we'll all be treated to another make-out session at dinner time then?" he says, after me.

I turn around and scowl at him. "Perhaps everyone will. And what will you be doing, staring at us again? If you get there early enough then you'll be able to get a good seat."

Malfoy returns the scowl. "Oh I'll be in the library, getting some of that research done," he says.

With a lack of anything to say at all, I just turn on my heel and walk out the door.

* * *

Now with everyone knowing that Aidan and I are 'a thing', no one finds it at all weird that Aidan seeks me out in the common room after dinner and sits next to me. In fact, he asks a first year to move to another seat so he can sit there.

I can't help finding it weird though. When did we become 'a thing'? Does Aidan think we are too, or is it just everyone else? Surely we should have some sort of conversation about it? I mean, it's not the worst thing in the world to be in a relationship with Aidan. He's quite good looking and his accent, _oh my…_

And, if it came to meeting the parents, at least mum and dad would probably find him an acceptable boyfriend - unlike someone such as Malfoy for example. Bloody hell; imagine if I had to take him home.

'_Oh mum, dad, you know that boy you absolutely hated when you were at school… well, I'm dating his son! Ta-dah!" _

"So, are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Aidan asks, keeping his voice quiet so no one around us can hear.

"Yes, I need to get some more quills," I reply, "Are you?"

His nods, "I was thinking perhaps we could go in together? And maybe get an ice cream?"

Despite my thoughts on how weird this is, I can feel myself blushing. I look down to my lap and let my hair fall from behind my ear, in an attempt to conceal my rosy cheeks.

"Sure, why not?" I say, trying to sound nonchalant because I have a feeling that's what Kerry would want me to do.

"Excellent," he says, and I look up to see him giving me a cheeky grin.

Okay, so perhaps dating Aidan wouldn't be too bad after all. He's sweet and kind, and he's best friends with James so I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt me or treat me badly. And I'm pretty sure McGonagall wouldn't catch us arguing passionately in the corridor or on the stairs.

Plus, as far as I know he does his homework (even if it is sometimes during the morning of the day it is due in) so if I couldn't meet up with him because I had a piece of work to complete, I'm sure he wouldn't try and distract me or convince me not to do it.

Very much unlike a certain someone who never does any school work at all. Okay, so he said he was going to go to the library and finish off his Mandrake essay, but I find that very hard to believe. He probably got distracted by Zabini and her ridiculously short school skirt. In fact, _that's_ probably the reason why he wasn't at dinner this evening.

"Do you want a game of chess?" asks Aidan, pulling me away from my thoughts and into the present.

"Actually, I was thinking I might just quickly nip to the library. I've got a book to return," I say, getting up.

"I'll come with you then," he says, also standing.

"No, it's okay," I say, perhaps too quickly. "It'll only take a minute," I add on, after seeing his slightly hurt expression.

I rush up to the dorm before he can say anything else and grab the book I finished reading last night. It doesn't need returning until Tuesday next week really but I don't want to forget it and then have Madam Pince hunting me down, do I?

When I come back downstairs, Aidan is talking to Al about Quidditch or something. I manage to leave the common room without speaking to anyone else. The corridors are mostly quiet now, with only a couple of students or so wandering through the school. I walk quickly, and once or twice I have to stop myself from jogging.

He's probably not even in the library. Like I said before, he's more than likely in some situation with Zabini that has them both breaking several school rules. I'm not going to the library to see him anyway; I'm just returning my book.

But if he _is_ there, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to have a quick look at the work he's doing. He's missed so many Herbology lessons; I just want to make sure he's doing it all correctly.

The library is quieter than usual when I enter. Due to it being a Friday evening, most students have Friday night off as they have the whole weekend to get homework completed for Monday. Madam Pince narrows her beady eyes at me, as if daring me to make any sort of noise as I close the door. Luckily, I do it silently and she goes back to dusting books at her desk.

I sign my book back in at the returns desk. As I'm doing so, I quickly scan the student tables. Just like I guessed, Malfoy isn't here doing work like he said he would be. I'm not at all surprised. Oh well, he's the one that is going to have to explain to his parents why his grade for Herbology is so low. It's not really any of my concern.

Although, says this tiny, niggling thought at the back of my mind, just because he isn't sat at the tables, doesn't mean he isn't in the library. Well, it's not like I'm going to go looking for him or anything… although, now that I think about it, I do need a new book to read, considering I've just handed that one in. I'll just have a quick wander around the library and search for a book that catches my eye and if I happen to spot Malfoy then I can always go over and see what he's up to.

However, just as I'm about to turn around, I hear a voice from behind me.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?"

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed it :). Let me know what you thought in the reviews box if you want; it'd be much appreciated :).  
Thanks for reading,**

- Peaches xx 


	18. Chapter 18

**Hi everyone :). Thank you once again for all the lovely reviews; they really do inspire me to write more :). **

**Dreamypastelle asked **_**"**__**Hi! I hope you don't mind me asking but how many chapters are left before this story is finished?" **_**– Of course I don't mind :)! Originally I didn't have a clear idea of how many chapters were going to be in the story; I knew where the story was going, but I didn't know how long it was going to take to get there. So after I have posted this chapter I'm going to get started on some sort of plan :). **

**Anyway, back to the story now and older Scorpius and Rosie. Hope you all enjoy it :) **

**Peaches xx**

* * *

I can feel the nerves bubbling up inside me. Small little worries at first, and then huge and frantic like when you blow through a straw into a glass of pumpkin juice as hard as you can. I stop on the stairs. We're halfway down but panic is stopping me from going any further. This is what it must be like to be an actress, going on stage to perform in a theatre show – except if I get my lines wrong, the audience _will_ know and I'll be discovered as being a fraud.

Scorpius turns to give me a quizzical look.

"I think I forgot something in the room. I'll just go and-" I lie, but he interrupts me.

"What did you forget?" he asks.

I get the feeling he knows I wasn't telling the truth. I falter slightly, trying to come up with something. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spot the silver wedding band on his finger.

"My wedding ring," I say, "Did you bring it with you? Because I need to go and put it on in case anyone notices. Although if you didn't bring it, then I don't mind heading back to the cottage to pick it up."

I speak quickly, hardly pausing for breath.

He just raises his eyebrows and waits for me to stop talking. Then, after a few moments of silence his face softens. He reaches into his inner suit pocket.

"I was afraid to give it to you, after your reaction to it at the hospital. And, even though I realise that you only mentioned it so you had a reason to go back upstairs and avoid the party for a few minutes longer-"

I wince. I didn't realise I had been so obvious about it. I didn't intend to be mean about it, it's just… well, you know. He continues, trying to be blasé about the matter but I can tell it has upset him.

"-here it is," he says.

He pulls out a small black box and presents it to me.

"Scorpius," I say, desperately wanting to apologise but not being able to find the words.

He just shakes his head, "It's fine," he says, in a way that I know it actually isn't fine.

I open the box. The ring is even more beautiful and delicate than I remember. In my head, when I remember the time I first saw it in the hospital, it was huge – an ugly, thick, heavy wedding ring that weighed my finger down. But now, it is different although obviously it hasn't really changed at all.

After a moment of me just staring at it, Scorpius takes the box out of my hand and removes the ring from it. Then, ever so gently, he takes my left hand and tenderly pushes the ring onto my third finger. It fits perfectly, and it feels so natural. It feels like I've been missing something this whole time, without actually realising it and now I've found it again.

He hand keeps on mine for longer than necessary. When I look up from the ring to his face, he has an expression on it that I can't really describe; it's like a mixture of happiness and sadness all rolled into one and etched onto his face.

"Thank you," I say, quietly.

"You're welcome darling," he replies. He takes less than a second to pull himself back together, before offering his arm to me once again.

"Shall we?" he says, "we can't really keep them waiting much longer."

I take his arm for the second time and he leads me down the rest of the staircase.

As we walk through the foyer, there's a distant sound of people chatting joyfully, soft music playing and laughter. I can't believe we're actually going to try and do this. We pass the kitchen on the way to the large ballroom, which the party is being held in. My nostrils fill with the most delicious smells. My mouth starts watering instantly. It reminds me of the smells of the Great Hall at the Halloween or End of Year feasts. I have a feeling the Malfoy's are going to try to rival the spread of food that Hogwarts delivers.

As we get closer to the ballroom, I can hear more noises – like the sound of glasses clinking together and the clatter of heels on the hard, polished floor. We round a corner and there, straight ahead of us, are the double doors that lead into the ballroom.

They're open, revealing the spectacle inside. All of the women are in beautiful ball gowns, and the men are looking smart in tuxedos. I expect to see people dancing, but no one is. Instead, everyone is stood around in little groups, chatting to each other and laughing – probably about how rich they are or something. From what I can see, everyone has a glass of champagne in their hands. Silver trays float carefully around the room, carrying even more glasses for those that have run out.

Unconsciously I tighten my grip of Scorpius's arm. I don't notice until I feel his hand gently rubbing mine. I look down as I feel his skin touching mine, and then I look up, towards his face. He's looking down at me, smiling.

"You'll be fine," he says, reassuringly.

I bloody hope so. I don't think I could cope if everything was a complete disaster and I was revealed as a liar; not that I would probably have to face any of these people again. I think I'd be shunned or something and never ever invited to one of these parties again. Not that that would be a particularly bad thing, as I can tell I'm definitely not going to fit in here. I'm going to stick out like a mountain troll.

We enter the room. I was expecting that everyone would suddenly rush forward and quiz the pair of us on our marriage and my accident, but they don't. In fact, only a small handful of people actually notice we have arrived; the majority of which give us a smile or a small wave.

Okay, so perhaps this isn't going to be the catastrophe I imagined it would be. Scorpius leads me over to one of the large ceiling-to-floor windows on the left hand side of the room. The window looks out over the pristine gardens. I wonder how on earth anyone can keep their grass so neat and their flowers so perfect. Obviously some sort of magic is involved. Mum would hate that. It's not 'proper' gardening if it's not done by hand, she says.

As a silver tray goes floating past us, Scorpius takes two glasses and hands one to me.

"Thanks," I say, before taking a small sip.

It takes amazing; the bubbles tingle on my tongue right before I swallow the liquid. Bloody hell. I could get used to this. I mean obviously it's a bit too snooty and posh for my liking, but if they always serve this stuff then I suppose I could force myself to make an appearance at every party I was invited to.

"This isn't so bad," I say to him.

"I told you," he replies, taking a sip of the champagne.

I didn't need a Divination student to tell me that our good luck wouldn't last for long. As soon as the words have left his mouth, a woman comes shuffling over towards us. I say shuffling, because that seems to be the only motion she can make in order to move. Her dress is so tight, it's practically holding her legs together, as if she's been hit with the 'Petrificus Totalus' curse.

"Hello," she says as she reaches us, "I heard all about your accident." She stretches the word 'all' out, to be a much longer word than it should be. "I simply couldn't believe it. Then when I heard you had been kept in hospital for a few days, well, I simply didn't know what to think, did I Simon?" she pauses to look to her left, only to realise that her husband isn't by her side. She turns around, and spots him chatting to another guest – a much younger guest, who's dress (even though tight) fits her perfectly.

There's an awkward moment, as she clears her throat and tries to compose herself before turning back to Scorpius and I. I try my best not to giggle.

"Anyway, when I heard you had been released I was going to get in contact with you, but I've had a very busy few months, what with the charity and-" she pauses suddenly, "Oh, what I really came over to ask is how you're feeling now?" she looks at me expectantly, with her hand perched on my arm.

It takes me a few moments to realise that she's actually stopped talking and has asked me a question that requires an answer.

"Fine," is all I manage to say in reply.

She just continues to look at me; obviously expecting a more explanatory answer.

"I mean, it's been hard but-" I add on, before I even realise what I've said.

Her hand tightens on my arm. Usually if I told someone _"it's been hard"_ they would have a sympathetic expression on their face and ask questions in a concerned tone. This woman (I still don't know her name) on the other hand, looks excited as the thought of some gossip lights up her face.

"How has it been hard?" she asks, taking her gaze away from me to have a quick look at Scorpius.

Bloody hell. I've only been here for ten minutes and already I have messed everything up. I'm a liability. I have no idea how Scorpius thought this would work. Someone was bound to figure something was wrong – although to be fair, I did think we would at last make it to the main course.

"What Rosie means is, she's finding it difficult to come to terms with her accident," replies Scorpius, very calmly. He takes a sip of his drink as this woman and I turn to him.

I eye his suspiciously. It could just be my imagination, but I swear he's trying to hide his smirk by drinking.

"Difficult?" the woman asks, finding it hard to disguise her glee at being the first to find out this information.

"She's scared of brooms now, aren't you darling?" he replies, looking down at me.

I purse my lips. Well that's just ridiculous. I'm not _scared_ of them, for Merlin's sake. Who has ever heard of a witch that's scared of brooms? Honestly.

"What? Like," the woman pauses, turning to now look at me instead, "a broom phobia?"

"I wouldn't say it's exactly a phobia," I say, feeling a warming sensation creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks.

She just ignores me.

"We even had to leave a Quidditch match early," he states. "Her cousin was playing," he adds.

Oh, he's bloody loving this isn't he? The sod. I actually cannot even think of what to say. The woman, who has clearly got what she came over for, makes her excuses and leaves. She even ignores Simon as she makes her way across the room to a group of woman standing in the corner. They all huddle together, and a few moments later, they all turn to look over.

I turn away and look out of the window; making it obvious that I am ignoring Scorpius. I feel him step closer, and then he places a warm hand on the base of my back.

"You can just sod off," I say, refusing to look at him.

"I love winding you up, darling," he says softly. He has to lean closer so I can hear him. His breath tickles my ear and neck. I try to ignore the tingling feeling that runs up and down my spine.

"But now that woman-"

"Cecelia," Scorpius interjects.

"-is going to tell everyone I have some sort of broom phobia."

Scorpius tries hard not to laugh. I try hard not to hit him.

"Now I probably should warn you, at these events a few of us younger ones like to get a game of Quidditch going after dessert. Try hard not to run screaming back into the house."

I narrow my eyes and purse my lips. That comment, if we were in Hogwarts, would probably have me throwing him insults and make my blood boil. But right now, I'm finding it desperately hard not to laugh. It must be to do with the champagne or something.

I can't think of any sort of come back. Damn him. Scorpius, seeing that I have been defeated leans in and kisses the top of my head in such as affectionate way I feel giddy. Then he seems to remember everything that has happened with my memory loss and his expression changes from victory to guilt.

I give him a small smile to show that I didn't mind his display of fondness. Actually, to tell the truth, it felt quite nice. I wish my memory would just hurry up and come back to me already. Perhaps if I bang my head against the wall it will all just come flooding back to me.

I change my position so that my back is leaning against the wall. Hopefully I can knock my head against it and no one will notice. Well, Scorpius might but I'll just pretend I was nodding my head to the tune of the music and I accidentally hit the wall.

Before I can do anything, Scorpius has moved so he is standing right in front of me. He removes my glass from my hand, and places both his and mine onto the small table nearby. He then takes hold of my face in both of his hands. He pauses for what must be an instant, but the moment seems to go on forever. He's staring intently into my eyes, and I'm looking straight back at him. I feel like we're the only people in the room. Everything else has turned a sort-of blurred background that no longer matters now.

He's about to kiss me, isn't he? Right here, in front of everyone. It's not just a stunt either, to hide the fact that I can't remember we're married. It's going to be an actual, full on, loving, passionate kiss that an adoring husband would give to his devoted wife.

And I want him to kiss me. My hearts starts beating so hard; it feels like it is about to explode out of my chest. My breath shortens and quickens – and that's only when I remember to breathe. My hands feel clammy, and I feel stupid with them now hung limply by my sides; however I'm so paralysed by this moment that I can't move them.

His eyes flicker down to my mouth, and then back up to my eyes. It's like he is waiting for my permission. I slip my hands underneath his blazer and around his waist and pull him closer towards me. If that wasn't an invitation, I don't know what would be – apart from jumping up and wrapping my arms and legs around him.

It's enough, and I don't think he can hold out any longer. That familiar smirk plays on his lips, but now it's sexy and smouldering – quite unlike when we were at Hogwarts. I want him. I want him exactly the same as I wanted him when we both went back to Ivy Cottage after the Quidditch match.

Tantalisingly slowly, he leans his head closer to mine. My hands grab hold of a fistful of his shirt. I want to rip it off. Merlin, what has gotten into me?

His lips part slightly. Mine mirror his in response. I close my eyes and I can almost feel his lips on mine.

"Now, now, you two," comes the drawl of Draco Malfoy, "Not exactly the right time or place, is it?"

I hear Scorpius let out a long sigh before he lets go of me. I open my eyes, drop my hands, and see his father stood there with a smirk plastered on his face, which is almost exactly the same as his son's.

I feel like a naughty school girl who's just been caught kissing her boyfriend in the library by McGonagall and is about to be given detention. Huh, I wonder if that actually ever happened.

"Good evening, father," says Scorpius.

Draco nods in response. "Dinner is about to be served," he says.

We're led into a long dining room. There are place cards levitating above each place. Oh Merlin, what if it is some Malfoy tradition to mix up the guests so they are not sitting with the people they came with? What if I end up sat next to someone who wants to ask me lots of questions and then I fail to answer something?

My moment of panic doesn't last very long as Scorpius leads me by the hand over to the two places at the table that have _'S. Malfoy' _and _'R. Malfoy_' cards floating. As soon as we take our seats, the cards vanish with a puff of smoke. Someone further down the table tries to take a seat and his card starts emitting a ringing bell sound.

"What's that?" I ask Scorpius, turning to face him.

I'm taken aback by the death glare that has taken over his facial expression as he looks at the man with the noisy card. I've seen that look several times in Hogwarts – most of the time it was aimed towards myself – but I'm surprised to see it on adult Scorpius.

"He sat in the wrong seat," he replies.

I can sense him trying to keep control of his temper. Bloody hell, the guy only made a mistake. I'm terrified now. What will they all think of me if I eat my soup with the wrong spoon?

I don't reply to Scorpius, but to be honest I don't think he notices. He's too busy angrily glaring down at his plate, obviously lost in his thoughts. Suddenly I feel really out of place again. Should I really be here, among these people? Do I want to be? It's surprising how the tension Scorpius is giving off has completely changed my mood, and yet no one else seems to have noticed.

A woman across the table from us nudges her friend and nods her head ever so slightly in our direction. They then both start up a hushed conversation. Okay, so they did notice. I look from the women, to Scorpius, to the poor man who has seemingly been subjected to my husband's hatred. Surely this has a lot more do with than just a seating plan.

The first course appears in front of us all as soon as everyone has sat down. Thank Merlin it's not soup, so I won't be making any cutlery faux pas. Instead, it is hot smoked salmon with a soft pouched quail egg placed on top. The portion of salmon is small, to match the tiny size of the egg. Bloody hell, if all the meals are this size then I'm going to have to conduct a midnight raid on the Malfoy's fridge.

"It has to be more than just that," I say to Scorpius quietly, so no one sat next to us can make out what I'm saying.

The edge of his anger seems to have worn off, because Scorpius gives me a small smile.

"I have something hidden in our bag for later," he replies.

"No, I mean," I pause, not quite sure if I really want to bring it up. I know it will probably just put him straight back into a bad mood again. "I mean, that man. Your reaction has got to be for more than just where he sat."

He lets out a sigh and puts down his folk.

"It was, but it doesn't matter." He raises his arm and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, "I'm sorry," he adds.

Perhaps it doesn't matter. He could just be someone that works with Scorpius who he doesn't get on with, or they may have had an argument about Quidditch. Besides, I'm now slightly more intrigued by what Scorpius has brought for tonight.

It is not long before everyone has finished their starter, and the main course arrives shortly afterwards (fillet of beef with Dauphinoise potatoes and some sort of paste, which after a reluctant taste I discover to be parsnip puree).

"So," I begin, looking up from the small portion on my place, "what exactly is it you have hidden in your bag for later?"

A smirk appears on his face. Instead of answering, he takes hold of a bottle of wine from the table and pours a rather generous amount into my glass.

"Drink up, darling."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" I ask, but I can't stop the smile forming on my lips.

"Not at all," he pauses, "although, if you do happen to become slightly tipsy and you do destroy that beautiful dress you have on, then you win the bet."

I remember; the ice cream he bet me.

"Hang on, the bet was if I destroy my dress than I get the ice cream. Why are you trying to make me wreck my dress?" I ask, suspiciously.

"Well, the sooner you do, the sooner you will take it off," he replies, giving me a look that would make my knees giddy if I were not sat down.

* * *

Well, I do drink the wine; and more of it, actually. If fact, I'm quite a bit drunker than I was planning on being. I'm not sure how well I am doing in hiding this fact, judging by Scorpius' laughing – although that could be due to the amount he has drank too.

The meal finished a while ago, although a few of the guests are still sat around the table talking and drinking. The majority have made their way back into the ball room. The patio doors have been opened and several people are wandering around the gardens.

Scorpius and I leave the table. He takes hold of my hand and leads me back towards the ball room. The room is spinning ever so slightly, and the edges seem blurry. I'm trying not to trip or stagger too much. But Merlin, I feel good. What have I been worrying about anyway? Who needs their stupid memory? I'm having fun with my husband and isn't that all that matters? I can even describe how much I want him right now.

He's pulled his bow tie loose and has undone the top button of his shirt. He's left his blazer hanging on the back of his chair. He pulls me closer and wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk. Once we're out of the dining room and in a corridor, I stop and turn to him.

"How long do these parties usually last for?" I ask.

His arms snake around my waist and pull me close.

"All night, why?" he asks, looking enticingly down at my lips before returning his gaze to my eyes.

"I was just wondering," I reply with a shrug, "I kind of want that ice cream now."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really? Well, we should probably stay downstairs," he replies, running a hand slowly up and down my spine. Where his finger traces my skin, I feel a tingling sensation.

In a complete spur of the moment, and not really being like my usual self, I grab hold of his hand and drag him through the nearest door. I have no idea what's on the other side. Once we're in, I close the door and then turn around.

We're in a small library. It's dark, and doesn't look like it is used very much. There are a few tables and chairs around the room, and the only light comes from the long but narrow window.

"Well this takes me back," says Scorpius, "being dragged into a deserted room by you."

I frown at him. "What?"

He nods and smirks, "Hogwarts, would you believe? You pulled me into an empty classroom because you wanted me."

I let a moment pass before responding.

"Was I drunk then too?"

"No darling, just pissed off with me, as per", he replies. He places his hands on my waist again, before slowly running them around my body. "But you did want me."

"Arrogant idiot," I reply, shoving him away playfully.

He tightens his grip on me.

"Oh shut up," he says.

His lips crash down on mine before I can even respond. Mine move in sync with his, and before long, the kiss has deepened and become even more passionate and desperate. My hands tug eagerly at his shirt, tucked into his trousers. His hands are urgently fighting with the zip at the back of my dress, as he starts walking forwards – forcing me to walk backwards in response.

I walk straight into a desk, which I realise was his intention. With one swift move, he has lifted me up so I'm sitting on the desk, with him standing between my legs. Once I've released his shirt, I start the task of undoing the buttons and trying to resist just ripping it straight off. He has managed to unzip my dress, and he places his hands on my shoulders and then down my arms, taking the straps of the dress with him.

All the while, we haven't broken our kiss. We're still locked together, as if this is the last time we will be together so we have to make every moment count. I begin to undo his belt buckle, as he slides his hand down my leg to remove my shoe. Then, slowly, he brings his hand back up my leg. He reaches my thigh and continues going higher. I feel a pang of anticipation in my stomach.

"Scorpius, are you in there?"

We both stop what we're doing instantly. As quick as a flash, he whips his wand out of his pocket and mutters something under his breath. The buttons of his shirt instantly do up again. He tucks it back into his trousers before replying.

"I'm just looking for something father," he replies.

Too frozen by the shock of the interruption, I haven't even thought to put my dress back on properly and fix my hair. Instead, I quickly get off the other side of the table and hide behind it, just as Draco Malfoy enters.

He looks around suspiciously.

"Where's Rosie?" he asks.

Scorpius looks behind him; clearly expecting me to have managed to dress myself in time before his father's entrance.

"She's in our room," he replies quickly. "She needed to get something."

I don't dare to look out from the desk to see his face, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't believe a word of what Scorpius has said.

"Very well," he says, after a moment, "some of the men want to start a game of Quidditch and they were looking for you."

"I'll be there in a bit," Scorpius says, and I hear him start to move a pile of books that had been left on the table.

I hear the door closing and Scorpius comes around the other side of the table.

"Why did he hide?" he asks, laughing and holding out a hand.

I take hold and he helps me up.

"I panicked," I reply, "I didn't want to be caught by your father; especially after what happened before in the ballroom. He's going to think we're a pair of love-struck teenagers who can't keep their hands off each other."

I turn around so he can zip up my dress for me.

"You're best going out of that door," he says, pointing to it as I face him again, "just in case father is waiting outside the other one."

I nod, feeling stupid. Why did I hide? Now I have to creep about my parents-in-law's house and try and find my way back to the ballroom. Great. Scorpius gives me a quick but powerful kiss before retreating towards the door we came in through. I make my way towards the one he pointed out, fixing my hair as best I can as I do.

The door leads into a small study. I quickly make my way across the room, towards another door. This time, it opens out onto a corridor. The corridor is empty expect for a man several yards away. He has his back to me and doesn't hear the door closing.

"Hi," I say, deciding to play the drunk card rather than attempting to sneak out of the corridor without him seeing. "I've had slightly too much to drink, and I'm afraid I'm a bit lost," I begin, "I've been to this house so many times but honestly, I'm starting to think all these corridors look the same."

He turns.

"You must be drunk if you're talking to me," he replies.

Whoa, that wasn't the response I was expecting. I frown. He sees my confusion and raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"Don't you remember? I'm not allowed to talk to you."

"Why not?" I ask.

"Your dear husband's request," he replies, talking slowly as he tries to figure out what's going on.

Clearly something has happened in the past and I have gone and put my foot in it. Bloody hell. How am I going to get out of his now? I can't exactly say _'Oh yeah, I forgot I'm not allowed to talk to you'_.

Hang on, does Scorpius really tell me who I can and cannot speak to?

"Wait, you're the one who Scorpius became angry at, during dinner," I say, recognising his face.

He frowns. "You don't know who I am"?

Well I may as well explain now, hadn't I? Besides, I want to get to the bottom of reason why my husband sees fit to dictate my social life.

"Look,-" I begin, and then realise I don't know his name.

"Randall," he interjects, looking even more confused than ever.

"When I hit my head in this accident I had, I forget everything – well, several years worth of memories anyway. But you can't tell anyone," I add on, realising how alcohol has made me think this is a good idea. When actually it's an extremely bad idea.

"So no," I continue, "I don't know who you are and I have no idea why Scorpius would stop us talking. What happened?" I demand. This had better be something good or Scorpius is being hexed into next week.

"Rose," he begins, awkwardly, then he pauses and thinks over what he is about to say.

"What?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. "Just tell me."

It's a few more moments of silence before he speaks.

"Malfoy caught us together, one afternoon. He came home from work early."

I can't speak or even move. Is this Randall guy saying what I think he's saying? _Were we having an affair?_

Well that's a good enough reason.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :) **

**- Peaches, xx **


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you all so much for all the lovely reviews on Chapter 18 :). I haven't had internet since I moved (which was weeks ago). It was ridiculously annoying, but we had it installed today, yay :3!  
Hope you all enjoy this chapter :)**

**- Peaches xx**

* * *

I roll my eyes and turn around.

"Zabini," I say with a sigh, "this isn't your usual place to hang out; unless of course you followed some first years into here that you and your little group of friends had been tormenting."

She scowls at me and crosses her arms over her full chest; a chest which, in my opinion, would fit much better into a bigger shirt size. Or perhaps that's the looks she's going for.

"Probably because I prefer hanging out with my friends, rather than fictional characters from books," she replies.

"Oh excellent, you know what a book is. You're making progress."

She looks like she wants to punch me in the face. Her pouted lips change into a scowl, and she repositions her body so that the majority of her weight is resting on one hip.

"I'll make progress rearranging your face if you carry on," she says, aggressively.

I've been the subject of Zabini's threats before. In fact, quite a large percentage of the school has – including some of the teachers. She's well known for her dark brown eyes that are lined by thick eyelashes, her ridiculously long and toned legs, and her uncontrollable anger issues. I've tried to stay out of her way and not respond when she decides she wants to insult me to cure her boredom. However, this can just make things worse if she thinks you're ignoring her. So, in my opinion, I may as well get a few shots in – even if they are cheap and childish.

"I'm terrified," I reply sarcastically.

I take a step towards the direction of walking around her, but she side-steps so she is standing right in front of me.

"Not so fast, Weasley."

So, perhaps those comments were a mistake. The library suddenly seems very deserted; even Madam Pince is nowhere to be seen (although I'm pretty sure she would reappear if Zabini started to bang my head against a table or something). Not that I'm scared, of course. I could just really do without yet _another_ detention for arguing.

"Just get out of my way Zabini. I'm sure Malfoy is around somewhere, wanting attention of some sort."

The mention of her on/off boyfriend's name coming from my lips has made her become even angrier. It's made her blood boil, and she is making no attempt to hide it. She unfolds her arms. Even though she's dropped them to her sides, she looks even more menacing. I feel like she's about to slap me.

"It's you, isn't it?" she asks, incredulously. Her voice is of a higher pitch than usual and if she spoke a little bit louder she'd be shouting.

"What's me?" I ask. I have no idea what she is going on about.

"When Scorp said," she begins, but she cuts herself off and shakes her head.

"I thought you of all people would have learnt by now not to trust everything Malfoy says," I reply.

She grits her teeth and glares at me.

"So you admit it then?" she quizzes.

I honestly have no idea how she managed to come to that conclusion. I feel like she is a ticking bomb about to go off, and I'm the unlucky one who pulled the short straw and has to go in and dispose of it.

"Admit what, Zabini?"

Instead of answering she just rolls her eyes and shakes her head slightly, in a disbelieving manner.

"I honestly have no idea what you are talking about," I say.

"I just want you to know," she says, pointing a finger close to my face, "that the only reason you're going is because I didn't want to. Okay? He wanted to go with me, but I turned him down. So, have fun with my leftovers, Weasley."

She finishes her speech and storms out of the library, slamming the door behind her. I'm too surprised that I managed to get away with not being hit that I don't particularly take in what she just said. She's probably just had another argument with Malfoy and wanted to take it out on the first person she saw. Luckily for her, it just happened to be someone she hated.

I don't even know why I came looking for Malfoy. I hate him; I hate all of his friends and how they act towards everyone else. Eurgh. I think I'm just going to grab a book (after all, it will arouse suspicions if I leave the library without one) and head back to the common room. I'll arrange a proper date with Aidan and it will be lovely.

I stroll towards the History of Magic section. As boring as 99% of the students find it, I actually quite like the subject. The smell of the old, slightly dusty books makes me relax instantly. I run my finger across the spines of the books on the middle shelf. I like the noise of the pad of my finger hitting each one.

It doesn't take me long to find a book title that sparks my interest. I pull the leather-bound book off the shelf. I open it, and flip through the age stained pages. With my nose already in the book, I wander towards an armchair in the corner. I know its exact location without having to look where I'm going. The armchair is empty, as I expected, and I snuggle down in it, crossing my legs on the seat.

I'll head back to the common room in a minute. I just may as well give it a bit of a read first. I don't want to get back just to realise that I actually don't find the book interesting and informative. Although, to be honest, I can already tell I'm going to like it. Quite frankly I'm just enjoying being in the peace and quiet of the library and away from the busy common room.

As I get the bottom of the fifth page, someone walks across the top of the aisle, causing the old floorboards to creak. I look up, feeling slightly grumpy that someone dared to interrupt me whilst I was reading – as if I own the library and access is strictly limited.

It's Malfoy. Well, of course it bloody is, isn't it? The first moment in what seems like ages I have had to myself, and he is the one to destroy it. He has stopped still and is looking straight at me, with a weird, un-Malfoy-like expression on his face.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Reading," I reply, pointing to the book I'm holding.

"Can't you do that in your common room?" he asks, suspiciously.

What's with all the questions?

"Well, I came here to return a book and I just happened to find this one so I thought I would give it a read before I went back," I tell him. It's not a complete lie, but he seems able to see right through it.

He walks over slowly and stands over me. I stay sat in the arm chair with my feet crossed, determined not to allow him to make me feel nervous and uncomfortable. He raises an eyebrow.

"What? I did come to return a book," I say, not looking at him. I can't admit that I came here secretly looking for him. He's head will probably explode with the pride or something.

He pauses for a second. "Okay."

Malfoy begins to walk away.

"Hey," I call out; although quietly so I don't attract the attention of Pince.

He turns around; a smug expression is just beginning to appear on his face. The git.

"Yes Weasley?"

I don't want to ask. I don't want to make him think that I came here looking for him (because _obviously_ I didn't). But my curiosity has been nagging away at me since I entered the library.

"Have you been working on the project then?"

He smirks triumphantly, like he has just found out that he put a bet on his favourite Quidditch team and they won. He takes the few paces back to me, so he's once again standing by my chair.

"So that's the real reason then?"

I furrow my brow and close my book. "Of course not. I was just asking so-"

"-so you could have a look over it and tell me what to write if what I have done is not to your unattainably high satisfaction?" he interrupts.

I purse my lips.

"No." Well, maybe a little bit.

Again, we just look at each other in silence. It's so quiet I can actually hear another student turning a page of a book.

"Well, have you?" I ask again, eventually, "Because you really need to get your part of this assignment completed so we get a decent grade. I don't want to have to explain to my mum why I only got an 'A', or worse, a 'T'."

The thought suddenly fills me with dread. Scorpius, who has probably never worried about grades in his life, sighs and rolls his eyes.

"I've nearly finished it if you must know. I was just looking for another book," he replies.

I narrow my eyes, "from the History of Magic section?"

"I was on my way to the Herbology section and I…" he pauses and doesn't finish his sentence, like he's suddenly realised what he is about to say and is now regretting it.

"You what?" I ask.

He clears his throat, awkwardly.

"I saw you," he states.

I don't quite know what to say, but his words have Cornish Pixies flying around in my stomach. I look away quickly, and pretend I'm focusing on my shoes. I don't want him to see I'm blushing – although Merlin knows why I am.

"Come on," he begins and he starts to walk away, "are you going to come and criticize my work or not?"

I think back to Aidan in the common room. Will he be waiting for me? After all, I did tell him I was only going to the library to return a book. Should I really go with Malfoy? I mean, I know we're only going to be finishing off our project and that's completely and utterly innocent… but still. I can't help feeling that I shouldn't be doing it.

I feel like the right thing to do now, would be to tell Malfoy to do his own bloody work and to return to the common room and spend what remains of the evening with Aidan, whom I have a 'thing' with. We're going for drinks in Hogsmeade tomorrow for Merlin's sake. He asked me. Surely that means we're in some type of relationship and _that_ means I definitely should not be spending time with Malfoy alone, late in the evening, in the library – especially as I feel…

What? What do I feel towards Malfoy? Hate, annoyance, irritation and exasperation, yes – but is there something else too? My teenage, hormone-fiddled brain is telling me, yes.

So that's it then isn't it? I definitely should not go with Malfoy.

A second or so later and I've made up my mind.

"Wait," I say as loudly as I dare, "I'm coming."

* * *

"This one is good," I say, pulling out _'Encyclopaedia of Magical Plants, M – O'._

"Used it already," says Malfoy.

"Okay, well what about-"

"And that one," he interrupts, before I've even pulled the book off the shelf.

He crouches down on the floor to get a better look at the lower shelves. I take a step closer towards him. It seems like he doesn't need help after all. Obviously I'm going to hide how impressed I am. I don't want him to get even more big-headed than he already is. He quickly decides on a book, and stands back up with it in his hand.

He almost knocks me over as he stands. I didn't realise I had stepped so close to him. Our bodies are millimetres from touching. He looks at me intently and my breathing starts to deepen. We stand like this for a couple of seconds, but in my mind it seems like ages.

"That's a good book you've chosen," I say. I feel incredibly stupid and vulnerable for sounding breathless.

"Is that so?" he replies. His eyes stray away from my eyes and lock onto my lips for the briefest of moments.

_Merlin_.

"I've been working over here," Malfoy says, suddenly turning and walking away from me.

I can imagine the smirk on his stupid face at the clear effect he had on me, which I tried (and failed) to hide. Damn him. I follow; trying to keep up with his pace. He walks over to a secluded and quiet area of the library. One of the tables is littered with books and pieces of parchment. I'm surprised when Malfoy pulls out a chair. I look around, expecting another student to come and complain that he has sat at their table, but they don't. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if we were the last students in here now.

"I really should be going," I say.

He looks up from the book he has just opened. I'm standing by the table, holding the book I was reading before in my arms.

"You're going to resist the urge to read over my work, Weasley?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

I purse my lips.

"Aidan is waiting for me," I tell him. At least, I think he will still be waiting for me.

Malfoy pulls back his shirt sleeve slightly to check the time on his watch.

"If he is Weasley, then he has the patience of a saint."

I furrow my brow. I'd cross my arms over my chest if I could. What, so he thinks Aidan _wouldn't_ wait up for me? I know it's late but does he find it so surprising that someone could actually like me that much to stay up until – I pause my train of thought to check my own watch. Merlin's beard, I didn't realise it was _that_ late.

"Well," I reply, with as much dignity as I can muster standing opposite his smirking face, "even if he isn't, it doesn't mean I want to spend the night with you doing school work."

He leans forward on the desk. The movement causes the top of his shirt to open slightly further where he has undone his top button, and I catch a glimpse of his collar bone.

"It wasn't school work I had in mind."

I roll my eyes and make a noise to show my disgust. It's obvious what he is implying and I have to show him how much that thought fills me with dread. Because it does. Definitely. I couldn't think of a worse thing to do with Malfoy. Honestly.

"Come on, Weasley, you know you can't resist me forever," he adds, clearly enjoying himself.

"For your information, _Malfoy_, I can resist you forever. And I will do. Not that I need to, obviously, because to resist you I would have to want you in the first place and that is never, going to happen. In fact, our relationship is never going any further than hatred and annoyance."

He looks like he doesn't believe a single word I just said.

"So you're not going to read over it then?" he asks.

"No. Now, goodnight," I reply. I turn around on the spot and begin to walk away. I've only taken a few steps before he starts talking.

"Oh well, I guess I'll just hand it in as it is then. You never know, we might be lucky and get an 'A' grade."

I stop where I am and grit my teeth. I know he is only winding me up. I know he's only saying it so I'll stay because he's playing some sort of power game or whatever. I know he's doing it so I'll choose to stay here with him rather than going back to the common room to be with Aidan. So really, I should just rise above it and be confident that mine and Quentin's work will see us through to a good grade.

Failing that I could always speak to Professor Longbottom about it.

However, there is just a tiny, niggling part of me that's screaming: _'BUT WHAT IF YOU DO GET AN 'A'… OR WORSE?' _

I let out a long, exasperated sigh and slowly turn around. A smug grin appears on Malfoy's face.

"I suppose I can have one, quick look over it," I tell him, regretfully.

Sometime later I find myself flicking through a huge, old book trying to find a useful quote. Scorpius is sat next to me, writing down notes onto a piece of spare parchment. I've never seen him doing so much work in his life. Well, not that I would have seen him anyway, because he would do it in the Slytherin common room – but I've never _imagined_ him doing this much work.

He looks up from his page. The ink off his quill has left a stain on his forefinger. He's got quite big hands actually. I realise I'm staring and quickly look away and stare at the pages of the book in front of me; even though the words are all blurring together.

"What have you got for me Weasley?"

I push the open book towards him and point to a section. He reads it; his eyes scan over the words quickly. He then flicks through his work and reads a page, shrugs, and pulls the book closer so he can copy it down.

"I think you just need to copy it all up neatly now and it'll be finished," I say.

"What? So you mean this isn't acceptable?" he asks sarcastically, and holds up his essay. It's covered in ink blotches and lines have been scribbled out, rewritten and comments have been noted down the sides.

I arch my eyebrows and don't dignify his question with a response.

"I take it I can leave that task in your capable hands?" I ask, as I stand up.

My back is bloody killing me. And I've got a bit of cramp in my legs. Stupid uncomfortable chairs.

"Going back to Aidan are you?" he replies, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

I purse my lips.

"Well, I highly doubt he'll still be waiting up by now," I admit. Merlin, I'm going to have some explaining to do in the morning. "But I'm leaving. It's late."

I grab my book off the table and turn to leave; hoping that Scorpius will actually copy down all his work neatly rather than hand in a scruffy attempt because he simply couldn't be bothered.

"I'd like to see you leaving, considering the library doors will have probably been locked by now," Malfoy says. I'm not even looking at him and I know he's smirking.

But then his words sink in. I quickly look at my watch.

Shit. _SHIT. _

I didn't realise it had gotten _this_ late. It's nearly 4 in the morning. How did I not notice how much time had passed?

"You've put a spell on my watch or something," I say. I'm know I'm clutching at straws.

"And when would I have performed that little spell, Weasley?" he asks. Admittedly, he has a point.

I make an angry noise, which could be described as a grunt and storm off. I quickly and determinedly make my way towards the doors of the library. They cannot be locked. What if a student wakes up in the middle of the night and desperately needs to finish homework they'd forgotten about?... although, they wouldn't be able to leave their common room because of the 'out of bed' rule…

But still, surely they wouldn't actually _lock_ the doors to the library, would they?

I reach them. My heart sinks slightly as I notice Madam Pince isn't at her desk like she usually is. I reach out and grip hold of the handles. I tug at them, wishing desperately for them to open.

Nothing.

I take my wand out of my pocket. I am not going to be stuck with Malfoy in the library overnight. How would we explain it to Madam Pince in the morning? Surely this is breaking a school rule?

"Alohomora," I say, pointing my wand at the stupid lock.

A little firework of sparks leaps off the lock. I try the handles again. Nothing. I groan. I swear to Merlin, if this leads to a detention with Malfoy I'll hex him into next month.

"Alohomora," I say again, "_Alohomora!_"

"Told you," comes the voice of an extremely arrogant git.

I turn around. Seething.

"You did this on purpose," I say, stomping towards him; wand aimed in his direction.

"How could I have done this on purpose, Weasley?" he asks, frowning.

Hang on, was that a hint of a smirk?

I glare at him and move closer.

"Why didn't Madam Pince check the library before she locked the doors?" I ask, as the question suddenly springs to my mind.

He just shrugs.

"You did something and I know it!"

"Again Weasley, what could I have possibly done?" he replies. He looks suspiciously happy with himself.

I don't know if he has done something (because, he does have a point – what _could_ he have done?) or if he is just happy that the situation has annoyed me so bloody much.

"I hate you," I reply sourly, shaking my head.

"Feeling's mutual," he replies. "Now can you please refrain from waving your wand in my face?"

I hit him with my wand, as hard as I dare. I don't want to break it. But I can't bloody stand him. Then, as looking at his smug face only increases my rage, I hit him again. And again.

He grabs hold of my wrist and holds onto it tightly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Malfoy says, giving me a warning with his eyes.

"And why not Malfoy? What are you going to do exactly?" I question, thinking of other things I can smack him with. A book? A chair perhaps?

"This," he replies, gruffly.

He pulls me closer by wrapping an arm roughly around my waist before crashing his lips onto mine. It's electric. I want more. I reach up and run my hands through his hair. His hands are running all over my body, and pulling at my shirt in a way that makes my stomach twist.

Then a thought enters my head. _Aidan. _

I push him away and pull my shirt back to its normal position; even though now it is quite crumpled. He looks at me confused, and angry.

"What the hell was that?" I ask, well, I shout it actually.

"You know exactly Weasley, you've felt it too," he replies. I know he's talking about the feelings I've been avoiding. I swallow hard. I didn't realise he actually felt them too.

"I've felt nothing," I lie, "And you can't just go around kissing people Malfoy. Especially not people with-"

"With a boyfriend?" he interrupts. He laughs loudly, "Oh please. Aidan isn't really your boyfriend."

I stand there; not quite sure what to say.

Malfoy waits a few seconds before speaking again. He seems to calm down. He looks at me intently.

"Does he make you feel the way I make you feel? The way I just made you feel then?"

I open my mouth, stutter, and snap it shut again.

"Well?" he asks, impatiently.

"That was just frustration," I reply. "You don't make me feel anything but irritation and annoyance. Aidan is kind and sweet and I truly believe he would never, ever hurt me. I would never catch him bedding another girl or bullying someone who he thinks is beneath him."

And it's true. If I got into a relationship with Malfoy – if you could even call it a relationship – he would only end up hurting me a short while afterwards. Once he had slept with me, wouldn't I just be another notch on his bedpost? He would have 'won' me.

"And," I add, "as previously stated, I hate you."

He just stands there and doesn't say anything. I, however, can't seem to stop myself from speaking.

"You could never be as kind or as thoughtful and caring as Aidan is."

Okay, I'm going to stop my rant now. Perhaps I went a bit too far.

Malfoy nods, then slowly turns and walks back to where we had been sitting, finishing off his work. I sigh. Well what do I do now? For merlin's sake. I bend down and pick up my book off the floor. I must have dropped it when we were- well, we definitely won't be doing _that _anymore.

I head in the other direction. I don't want to be anywhere near him; the sooner morning comes the better. I find a comfortable sofa (which is usually always occupied) and sit down. This isn't so bad. I open my book and start reading. I'll just read until the library doors are unlocked and then I'll sneak out. Simple.

The only slightly troublesome thing is, I can't. I cannot concentrate enough to read. The words keep wriggling about on the page and I have to keep going back to the same line over and over again. I sigh; this is ridiculous. I force myself to push all things Malfoy-related out of my head and read the book. Dammit, he will not ruin books for me.

* * *

Several forced chapters later and I suddenly hear a banging noise; like someone knocking over a chair. I sit up. I had almost forgotten that I wasn't alone in the library. I've not heard anything from Malfoy. I just assumed he had fallen asleep somewhere, completely unaffected by our argument (although it mostly consisted of me ranting at him).

"Malfoy?" I say, feeling slightly worried.

He appears from around the corner. His hair is dishevelled and his tie is missing. It looks like he's trying really hard to focus.

Hang on – _is he drunk?! _

He manages to somehow make his way over to the sofa without tripping or falling over anything, surprisingly. He has a bottle of half-drunk Fire Whisky in his hand. I just stare at him, shocked. He collapses into the space next to me on the sofa. He rests the bottle of Fire Whisky on his knee.

"What do you think you're doing?" I ask. "You can't drink in school, Malfoy."

"You didn't seem to adhere to that rule at the common room party," he replies, speaking slowly with his eyes closed, "and, if my memory serves me correctly, you rather liked it." He wiggles the bottle in his hand and it almost falls off his leg.

I grab it quickly to stop him from smashing it on the floor. That'd be all we bloody needed.

"You're unbelievable," I say.

He arches an eyebrow and manages to pull a smug expression even though he's ridiculously drunk.

"So I've been told," he replies with a smirk.

I just shake my head.

"Have you drank all of this tonight?" I ask. What if he suddenly passes out because he's drank too much and I need to take him to the Hospital wing, but we're stuck in here?

He shakes his head, then opens his eyes and looks at me.

"I can be caring too, you know," he says suddenly.

The emotion in his words causes guilt to race through my body. Now I feel bad. I feel bad, for Malfoy. The weight of the silence in the room seems to be pushing down on us. It slowly starts raining outside and the droplets of water make noise as they hit the window unforgivingly.

"What have you ever cared about?" I ask.

He lets out a deep sigh and leans his head back so it's resting on the sofa. He doesn't look at me; he looks at the ceiling.

"Pleasing my mother and father, even though my best is never good enough; what people think of my Father; what people assume about me when they hear my name."

I look down at the bottle. I don't know what to say.

"What did you think? When you found out that Draco Malfoy's son was going to be in the same year as you?" he asks.

"Nothing, I-" I begin, but I stutter. I can't lie to him. He picks up on it.

"See?" he says.

"Well the way you've acted throughout school hasn't really done you any favours," I say. And it's true. I'm sure if he had been a nice guy, the perfect model student, then people would have given him a chance.

He shrugs. "I thought I may as well live up to the name everyone was telling me about," he replies bitterly.

Without giving it a second thought, I unscrew the cap of the bottle and take a swig. The amber liquid slides down my throat and leaves a fiery sensation in its path. The taste makes me grimace but at least this time I don't cough.

The corner of Malfoy's mouth pulls up into a half-smile. He takes the bottle from me and drinks a mouthful himself.

"We're going to be in so much trouble tomorrow," I say, regretfully. I can already imagine mum's letter, after hearing that I have been given another detention. She's going to be so disappointed.

"I quite like getting into trouble with you Weasley, it's rather fun," Malfoy replies; his eyes start to close as he falls into sleep.

* * *

**Hope you all liked it :) **

**- Peaches, xx**


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